Dipper, Wendy, and the Forest of Daggers
by CodyLabs
Summary: Dipper returns to Gravity Falls to find he's no longer alone in the mystery-solving business. Wendy's found a kitten-sized robotic creature, of unknown purpose and origin. They set out together in search of answers, a search which will take them to dangerous places, ancient places, places never walked before. Places to test the limit of faith, flesh, and friendship...
1. The Adorable Kitten

Ah, Summer break…

A time for leisure, recreation, and taking 'er easy.

Unless you're us.

My name is Dipper. I'm the one sitting in the copilot's seat, trying to read through the instruction manual. The girl sitting in the pilot's seat hitting random buttons is my good friend Wendy.

You may be wondering why we're trying to start the engine of a UFO, while giant killer robots attack the vehicle with saws and claws and other sharp implements, trying to get in. I'll admit that it seems like a bit of a departure, even for us.

But rest assured;

There's a perfectly logical explanation.

* * *

About a week earlier, Dipper picked his way carefully through the woods. Leaves rustled and branches cracked underfoot as he walked, though his eyes were locked on the radio tracker in his hand. It beeped rhythmically as it searched, and its direction meter swung about indecisively, unable to determine an exact direction.

There was too much interference to get a solid lock; either too many hills, ridges and rocks between him and the source, too many trees scattering the signal, or a thousand other complications. To get a better fix, he set course for the summit of a nearby hill.

After reaching the top, he set down his backpack, grasped the tracker in his teeth, and began to climb the nearest tree hand over hand. Soon he was high enough to see over the treetops, out across the cliffs, hills, and lakes of the Gravity Falls valley. The falls by the lake, with their hidden caves. The lone hill in the distance, with the Northwest mansion at its summit. The great arched cliffs, carved by the crash of an alien spacecraft, long ago in ages out of reckoning. Dipper turned his eyes Eastward. Now that he knew what to look for, he found he could easily spot the hill that buried that same ship. And with a little closer inspection, he located the Multibear's peak, the haunted convenience store, the anomalous golf course…

What a view. What a rush. Every time he looked at this landscape, he couldn't help but think of how much he loved it. The weight behind it. The history behind it. The mystery behind it. He wished he could spend a lifetime here. Summer just seemed so short, and the rest of the world just seemed so small.

Now that he was at this vantage, he found a comfortable place to rest among the branches, and pulled out the tracker again.

It beeped louder and pointed resolutely in a new direction. He shook the device, spun it around, and checked again. It gave the same direction. This was it.

He pulled a map of the region, and matched the rough shape of the landscape before him to the contours on the map. Then he pulled out a marker and drew a line across the map, in the direction that the tracker had indicated. Should be enough to go on for now.

He put the marker and map back away, put the tracker back in his teeth, and began to descend from the vantage.

Forty minutes, two valleys, and a dozen mosquito bites later, the signal from the tracker was getting stronger, and he was nearing the end of the line he'd drawn on the map. The signal had to be coming from somewhere around here… Didn't it? He pulled the tracker back out, and checked the direction meter. It swung around a few times, and finally decided on a roughly North-East direction.

All right! That means he was close enough to track it without getting to a vantage point. He must be close to his target now… Very close.

He turned on his walkie-talkie again, and listened one more time to the mysterious signal.

What was it? It wasn't aimed at cell towers, it wasn't transmitted on normal channels, and it was coming from off in the middle of the woods. Dipper only knew of a few things all the way out here, and none of them seemed likely to broadcast this. Gnomes and manotaurs didn't have the tech. Magic crystals didn't give any electromagnetic signature at all, vampires don't do stuff like this, and Unicorns just no.

What kind of transmission was it though? There were no words, just garbled clicking and beeping. Like the feedback from a fax machine, but faster and more rhythmic. Almost like the call of a bird, or a cricket.

Before sending him off to check it out, Great Uncle Ford had suggested it sounded like a distress call of some kind. Like an SOS, but not in any known language. Stan and Mabel both agreed that it sounded like nothing of the sort, and that's why Dipper was out here alone. _Blagh, what did they know_? Ford thought it was an SOS, and that was good enough for Dipper. _What if there was some mysterious bunker back here? A hidden listening base from the Cold War? Or a crashed helicopter? Or a crashed UFO? Or a crashed soviet space shuttle with a crazy stranded cosmonaut inside?_ With possibilities like these bouncing through his head, Dipper was feeling quite adventurous indeed.

The trees were getting denser now, and thicker. This was an older part of the forest. One yet untouched by the loggers, a part that was still fresh and green and natural and…

Then he noticed a shape off through the trees: a parked RV. He frowned, scratched his head, and advanced tentatively further. Now he saw the corner of a corrugated tin roof. That RV and that roof looked awfully familiar…

Now he was emerging from the trees into a sort of clearing and he frowned again. _Aww! This wasn't some mysterious bunker! This was the Corduroy cabin!_

Well, it was no surprise that he happened upon it. The family's father, "Manly" Dan Corduroy, had a certain breed of paranoia as far as it related to civilization, and a certain need for privacy. So he'd purposefully built this cabin as far away from anything as possible. It was at the end of a narrow logging road, out of sight from the town, hidden from the PTA, from the union, and from the government. As a result, his family couldn't get internet at home, they could barely get cell service and TV, and they had to walk about half an hour to get to school. It was as quiet and secluded as any home Dipper had ever visited.

He pulled out the marker, and was about to write "Wendy's house" on his map, but then thought better of it. Dan took great pride that his dwelling wasn't on any maps, so if this marked map ever fell into the wrong hands (like those of his's in-laws) he might get annoyed. And Dan wasn't the type of person you annoy on purpose. Not if you were smaller than a bear, at least.

Dipper put away the map and glanced about, unsure of what to do. He wanted to find that distress signal. How cool would it be if he walked back to the shack holding an ancient artifact that he'd found himself? The glory, yes?

But then again, what if Wendy was home?

He'd only been back in town for a few days so far, and he hadn't seen Wendy yet. She'd quit her job at the Mystery Shack when Soos made his wife the cashier, and, by all accounts, she'd never looked back. Why would she? She hated that job. But now that school was out for the Summer, her dad would still want her to have some work. So what was she doing now? Was she even still around?

He hoped she was. He wanted to say hi. In fact, he'd really love to bring her along on the search for the signal. Would she like that? She usually liked stuff like that…

But the lights were all out in the cabin, and Dan's truck was gone, meaning that the family must be off doing something else.

Oh well. No Wendy today.

Dipper pulled the tracker back out, and checked it again.

The needle swung around and pointed directly at the cabin.

He frowned, and turned around. The needle kept pointing at the cabin. As a matter of fact, it was pointing directly at the cabin's western side. Wendy's room was on the western side.

Dipper found this kind of bizarre, because Wendy was one of the LAST people he would have expected on the other end of this signal. She hadn't even crossed his mind all day.

He circled the cabin, keeping his distance, just to make sure that the signal was, in fact, coming from her room.

It was.

The tracker's beeping was getting deafening, so he turned it off.

Now he racked his brain. What do you even DO in this sort of situation? Do you knock on the door and ask the manliest man in town "Yo, your daughter has a mysterious radio signal coming from her room, could I investigate?" Do you call Wendy and ask "Hey I'm right outside your room right now. Are you inside your room?" She probably wasn't home anyway, so he would have to wait for her to return before doing anything…

Dipper wasn't sure what the proper, polite, civilized option was here. Indeed, the longer he thought about it, the more flustered he became, so that he accidentally ended up choosing the LEAST proper, polite, civilized option: he climbed in her window.

The lights were off, and the door was closed, and nobody was here. The rest of the house was quiet too, so he guessed that nobody was home.

 _Should I leave?_ Dipper thought. _I should leave. Should I find the thingy? Where's Wendy? What if Wendy IS the thing? What if Wendy is the one who's been sending out the distress signal? What if she's in trouble, and left a tracking device for others to help her? Maybe she's been abducted by aliens, who left a mystical device behind to attract worthy minds? Maybe subterranean mole men tunneled up beneath her bed, and set up a beacon there to send orders to their killer drones? Maybe she'd been snatched up by the government, who planned to do experiments on her and give her superpowers… Well, if that's the case, I'll just let it be; superpowers are always awesome._

 _Geez, shut up, brain._ He shook his head. _You're getting more flustered by the second._

 _…Maybe she left behind some clue as to what happened?_

His eyes drifted around, and landed on her desk. There was a small blue book there. On the cover, the words "Wendy's Diary" had been scrawled in sharpie. He bit his lip, and his hand squirmed at his side.

What _should_ he do? What _could_ he do? What would _you_ do? He hesitantly picked up the diary and opened it to the last written page, and began reading. It was dated the day before yesterday.

* * *

 _June 1st:_

 _Dipper said he and Mabel would be in town for the Summer soon! Looking forward to seeing those dudes again. I heard they'd be staying at the mystery shack with Soos._

 _And I think the Stans are taking a break from that whole Antarctic thing too, but they're gonna be hanging around in an RV. Like getting the gang back together, right?_

 _Maybe Dipper or Ford will know what to do about_ THE ITEM _. Ford would probably just want to pull it apart, so I dunno, maybe I'll just tell Dipper. He'll know what to do for sure._

 _I'll try a few more things, and if I get results, I'll show up with it as a huge awesome surprise. If I don't find any cool results, I'll just show up anyway with a little awesome surprise._

 _Note: I just love referring to it as_ THE ITEM _. Makes it sound so cool and mysterious and vague. I crack myself up. But what do you know about humor? You're just a diary. Why do I bother…_

* * *

What? Dipper frowned, annoyed. That's it?! That's all I have to go on? You've got to give me more than that, Wendy! You don't even say what "THE ITEM" is! He fished a blacklight out of his backpack, and waved it over the page. No, Wendy didn't seem to use invisible ink.

Hmm… Well, maybe she says what THE ITEM is somewhere else. Maybe she wrote down where she found it, or what it looks like, or what it does.

Dipper flipped to some place near the start of the diary, and started reading.

* * *

 _January 4th:_

 _Well, another boyfriend in the discard bin! I realized that Joe never actually looks me in the eye. He was always glancing down at my chest instead, so I think we all know what he's thinking. Today I got fed up with him, and I was all like "Dude, you're a perv. Get out of my life." So now he's out of my life. I don't know if I should feel offended by how he thought about me, or feel like a jerk for how I treated him. I guess I'll settle for a mix of a little of both, ha ha._

* * *

WELP! Dipper slammed the book shut, put it down on the desk, and turned away. This wasn't Ford's Journal, or some textbook he was reading here. This was an actual diary. This was somebody's life. A girl's life. The life of a girl he liked and respected. He shouldn't read this.

 _But_ … He glanced back at it. He _had_ to. Didn't he? If she was in trouble, there had to be something useful here. Not just… Personal biz. He opened it very hesitantly and read the next entry.

* * *

 _January 5th:_

 _Okay, NEWS FLASH! Turns out the Gnomes are still missing a queen. And today, they decided to kidnap Candy Chiu to serve the regal role. She was about as happy about it as Mabel was, but there was one crucial difference: Candy didn't have a Dipper to save her._

 _However, there was another crucial difference: Sometime since last summer, Candy invented a "Pepper Spray Bomb Vest." Basically, if she ever takes off her jacket without entering the 8-digit access code, everyone in a 30ft radius gets gassed in the face and writhes in pain for a couple hours. Fact: no fewer than 182 gnomes can fit within a 30ft radius._

 _I thought the idea for the device was really cool, and asked her if she could build me one. But it turns out that to use it, you have to build up this crazy tolerance to pepper spray. After seeing how many ghost peppers that girl eats for lunch every day, I decided to pass._

* * *

Oh. Wow. Some of it was at least _sort of_ useful. That's good to know. He read the next page.

* * *

 _January 7th_

 _That does it._

 _I'm now 99% sure my teacher Mr. Fredricks is a ghost._

 _Everyone just tries to ignore him going transparent and disappearing every once in a while, but what you CAN'T ignore is his striking similarity to an outlaw who was lynched in 1872 and buried in the same place as my home period classroom._

 _(I actually researched this at an actual library. Looked up old dusty records and everything. I feel really proud of myself.)_

 _January 8th_

 _That exorcism trick Dipper taught me really worked._

 _But we didn't get to go home, because they just sent a substitute, and he was an actual human._

 _Fooey._

* * *

Dipper scratched his neck, and blinked.

Apparently, things never did calm down here. Gravity Falls was Gravity Falls all year, not just the Summer; there was still plenty to do. Dipper felt a pang of guilt that he wasn't there for this. Things were happening here; big, important, dangerous things, and he wasn't there for it! Ghosts! Gnomes! Stuff! And Wendy and everyone else were all right in the middle of it! They could all be in danger…!

Could they fend for themselves? …Well… Sure. Of course they could. But he couldn't help but wish he were there for every minute of it.

Dipper turned forward a ways, and landed on a page with no date, that looked like some kind of appendix.

* * *

 _Okay, from now on, I'm going to record all my mosquito bites on this page. I know that sounds completely insane, but I've actually noticed that they make words every now and again. On the off chance that tiny brainless bugs with poor spelling skills know what they're talking about, I figure this could be important._

 _CQOK BELOM (The first letter might be an L, but they wrote it crooked. 'Look below' maybe?)_

 _A ZIIIFTER BATCHES (I don't know what a ziiifter is, but a whole batch of them sounds bad.)_

 _THEY CUT THE TPFE (Did they mean 'the tree'? Which tree? There's like a million trees.)_

 _TI_AITH (They wrote this across my shoulders. I couldn't read the part in the middle.)_

 _BEWARF (Soooo close. Literally two more bites would have turned that last F into a E. Soooo close guys.)_

 _THOU ART RIGHT TO FEAP (probably meant 'fear' there. Why do prophecies always have to be so vague? You know what, I don't even care anymore.)_

 _DEEP IN THE JUNGLF YOU WILL FIND A KEY GUARDEB BY CREALURES THAT WATCH FROM TEH TREES. (This itched like HECK.)_

* * *

The next page was back to the normal format.

* * *

 _March 3rd:_

 _For some reason, today I loved everything I hate about high school. Mainly because it was just so hilarious the way it happened._

 _Okay, so I forgot to pack myself a lunch this morning for reasons, and when I got to school I didn't have much cash. So I was looking through the cafeteria menu, and score! For some reason the nachos were at a HUGE discount, and I got a big 'ol plate for practically nothing._

 _But when I sat down to eat them, nobody would sit near me and everybody was kind of glancing at me sideways. Suddenly it all clicked: Nachos are so cheap because they're taboo now! The yellowish triangular chips remind everybody of Bill Cipher, so me having a plate was basically chowing down on dozens of effigies of a super-powerful chaos demon. Which is a problem for some reason. Everyone was just looking at me and poking fun and I got super embarrassed._

 _But I was more annoyed than embarrassed, so I started eating the nachos more and more aggressively and noisily and laughing manically and chewing with my mouth open, because hey, the day is already ruined right? Why not have a great laugh while it happens? The chips actually started tasting better when I imagined they WERE Bill._

 _But then somebody called the cops and they rushed into the school and started tasing me because I wasn't "never minding all that." It made a huge scene. I got sent to the school counselor, the cops got sent to the principal's office, and I was all sore for the rest of the day._

 _But that gave me an idea._

 _March 8th:_

 _I've been eating nothing but nachos for the better part of a week, and now the taboo is broken! Everyone's eating nacho chips now, and laughing about it too. And I'm some kind of hero or junk. After all, why should we be afraid of HIM? He's dead, as is his dominion in this Earth._

 _If you're somehow still around, Billy, and are reading this now, then screw you, mate! There are things in this world worth being afraid of, and YOU are NO LONGER one of them! And if you're reading this now, you'd better watch your back, little buddy. We're gonna be standing over you with blunt objects and big grins someday soon, and hell is waiting for you at the end._

 _On a totally separate note: now the cops can't tase anybody within 25ft of school property. So that's nice. Kind of a load off, y'know?_

 _March 9th:_

 _As I was daydreaming in English class today, I finally figured out why helicopters don't have ejection seats. Kinda obvious in retrospect._

 _March 23rd:_

 _I've been working with Lee and Nate making "Bill sux" graffiti everywhere, but today I realized how stupid and immature that is, so I think I'll stop. Eating nachos is one thing, but ruining the town and causing lots of people trouble? I feel really bad. I should really apologize to Sheriff Blubbs, and maybe the mayor or something. I just wanted a laugh, and for people to stop being afraid. I didn't mean to make a mess._

* * *

"Hmm…" Dipper shrugged, and turned somewhere else in the diary. This one was a more recent page:

* * *

 _April 12th:_

 _Ghost pepper diet going "fine". Still not immune though, apparently._

 _April 13th:_

 _Well, dear diary, last night's adventure was pretty darn crazy. It was violent and eerie and NSFW, like something out of a cheap horror movie. Gotta put it down while it's fresh._

* * *

Dipper wasn't sure what NSFW meant (Never Sample Filthy Water?), but the part about cheap horror movie sounded fun, so he read on anyway.

* * *

 _It all started when Dad and the bros went all the way to Boring for the weekend for a wrestling tournament. But I had homework, so I was left with the place all to myself! Or so I thought._

 _I was walking home, all alone, in the dark, just minding my own business. Suddenly the air got super chilly, my vision got all blurry, my flashlight stopped working, and this super tall, super thin, super bald guy was suddenly standing in the trees. This perp had real pale skin, no mouth or eyes, a real swanky black suit, and he was just staring at me._

 _I wasn't sure what this bald dork wanted, but I had my axe on me, so I was all like "Fool, you got another thing coming." I pulled out my axe, started laughing like a maniac, and ran after him. I guess he's not used to people fighting back, because I was almost on top of him before he reacted, and then he seemed super startled and disappeared into the trees._

 _Way I figured it, this guy was purposely trying to be as scary as possible, so I figured I might as well give him a taste of his own medicine. So I stripped down to my underwear, covered myself in mud, and started yelling and waving my axe like an insane psychopath. I mean, what's scarier than that?_

 _Anyway, what came to what, I chased him around the woods for about half an hour._

 _At first all he did was complain that I didn't give him a flashlight and a head start. Then, after about 15 minutes, he started saying that I was actually scaring him and to please stop. Then by half an hour, he was begging me to stop and cowering. At that point I just jammed the axe into a tree next to his head and promised to "find where he sleeps, rip out his soul and feed him to his family" if he ever showed up here again. He seemed pretty panicky, and promised he never would._

 _Jerk._

 _I'm not scared of this guy, and I don't think he'll come back, but I'm gonna sleep with a chainsaw tonight just in case._

 _I wonder how much of this stuff I dealt with back when the Blind Eye was still around. I wonder how much I once knew but forgot. I wonder if people like him ever got me before I knew how to be strong. It chills me a little, I'll admit._

 _But I ain't gonna let cue-ball know that._

* * *

Oh. Well. Dipper blinked and set down the diary, wanting to remove the images it had put in his head. He wasn't getting any clues this way, just a lot of… Weird… Stuff. And although it sounded pretty interesting, it would be far better, (and a thousand billion times politer,) to get them straight from the horse's mouth.

Wendy's mouth, that is.

Honestly, he couldn't wait to hear those stories.

Over the past 9 months, they'd talked over the phone many times. He was on call to consult when she and Soos had gone to talk with the Shapeshifter. He had brainstormed with her on ways to deal with Gideon. And he'd helped her translate some ancient runes here and there. She'd really stepped up in the adventuring business after last summer, and he thought that was awesome. But from her diary, it seems that he'd only heard half of it. There was more… How much more?

He looked around her room one more time. He saw posters, maps, portraits and dartboards hung on the wall. He saw books, papers, pencils, a black light, and Blind Eye memory capsules sitting on the desk. He saw weapons and tools leaned against the wall and stacked behind the bed; axes, binoculars, shovels, a crossbow, a machete, even one of Ford's spare magnet guns.

Good grief, she HAD been busy.

If she wanted to see him, and if she had something to show him, as the last page suggested, then where was she now? Was she in trouble? Or was she just… Away?

His eye settled on one final tool, this one hidden high in the rafters: a security camera looking down at him. She might've gotten it from Ford's bunker, or from the abandoned convenience store, he didn't know.

But its little red light was on. Which means wherever Wendy was, she was recording now. She was watching. She must have seen him reading her diary.

He sighed, set down the diary, and put his hands in his pockets. He could feel his cheeks getting warm. Second day back in the falls, and he'd already made a huge fool of himself. What are the odds?

"Sorry." He told the camera, and turned to leave. What else could he do? At the open window, he stopped to survey the empty surroundings.

Suddenly, another voice rang out. "Oh, but not as sorry as you're going to be."

A giant, leafy, green mass fell off the roof and landed about 3 feet in front of him. The diary had already prepared his mind to expect a monster, so seeing this here scared the living daylights out of him. He jumped backward, and almost lost his balance. The green mass stood up to human height, reached up its enormous hands, and removed its head. Below the leafy disguise was a face he hadn't seen in 9 months. Dipper sighed, relieved.

She spat some grass and leaves out of her mouth, and began removing the rest of the camouflage. "You know." She said. "After last Summer, I started finding myself right in the center of all kinds of crazy stuff. I don't know why it just started; maybe it's because the Blind Eye isn't running around wiping us anymore. Maybe it's because I started going out looking for Weirdness, not waiting for it to come to me. I don't know, but it all adds up to me stocking up some really weird stories. Some of them are crazy. Some are cool. Some are embarrassing. How many of them did you read?"

"Uh…" Dipper fidgeted. She was frowning at him, and her eyes said this was no joke. Was she annoyed at him? He didn't really know, he couldn't quite tell. She removed the last of the camouflage, and tossed it aside. "Uh…" He said again, trying to remember the stories he'd just read. "Uh… Just one REALLY weird one… The… The one with the… Faceless guy…"

"Oh, you're SO in for it now." She put her hands on her hips and raised an eyebrow. "That was one of my most awkward stories ever. You know what this means?"

"What…?"

"You're gonna have to pay. Pay big time. You're gonna have to tell me one of YOUR most awkward stories. Fair's fair."

Dipper set his jaw. "Brain-swapping carpet." He sighed, without hardly thinking. "Mabel and I switched bodies for about 8 hours last Summer, and ran around trying to ruin each others' lives. I held my pee the whole time. Held her pee. Held the pee I had. Ugh. I don't know whose pee it was, but I didn't use the bathroom and that's all that matters, isn't it?"

"Go on."

"And I guess she held my pee too because I really had to go when we switched back. And Grenda and Candy were there too, and everyone was jumbled around. And I think in the back of my mind I wish I was Grenda because that was the one time I ever had muscles. And I know how it feels to be a girl and I want to forget. And McGucket was there too and now I know how it feels to have really terrible teeth. And Soos was there and he was a pig and…"

"Oh my! Did you ever switch him back?"

They stood there frowning at each other for a few seconds.

Then Wendy's mouth twitched into a smile. Dipper realized she was joking and his mouth began to twitch too. Then they were both smiling. Then they were both laughing. Wendy was laughing at the story, and Dipper was laughing out of relief. She wasn't mad at him. She really wasn't mad.

"Good to see you, Wendy."

"Good to see you too, Dipstick."

She was glad to see him! That's nice.

"Uh…" Dipper scratched his head. "Sorry. The—" his words began tumbling over themselves, as they often did when he was distracted and overwhelmed. He pointed to the tracker, then to her room, then to her diary. "Radio. Track. Me. Here. Room. You. Trouble. Thought you clue. Diary. Bleh. Ugh. Confused. Read Diary. Sorry, I should have axed first. But I didn't think to axe, and…"

"Don't worry about it. I get it. Friend of yours starts sending out a mysterious distress signal, she's asleep on her own roof in a homemade ghillie suit, you don't see her, you want to find out what's up… It's fine."

"I should have axed before coming in your window…"

"Asked. ASKED, dude. With an 'S'. Not axed. Calm down man, you're letting the faceless dude story get to your head."

"Oh. Uh. Yeah. Uh… That image."

"Me chasing a monster in my underwear?"

"Yeah, uh… Man, that's not going away anytime soon, is it?"

"Yeah." She shrugged. "The image of you in Mabel's body is gonna stick with me too. _That's_ some funny stuff."

Dipper tried to stop squirming.

There was awkward silence for a minute.

"Uh." Dipper said, pulling out the radio tracker. "I read the last page of your diary first. Are you behind that mysterious radio signal I picked up…? Is this about…" He made his voice go all deep and gravely, and made quotation marks with his hand. "'THE ITEM'? Is that what's behind that freaky signal?"

She smiled a cunning smile, as she climbed in through the window.

"Oh yes." She said. "THE ITEM. I've been waiting to show you THE ITEM for a while now. Yes, THE ITEM is what you're looking for. I've been using an antenna to amplify it a little bit, but in the end, THE ITEM is the source of the signal. I assume you'll want to see THE ITEM now?"

"I'd very much like to see THE ITEM."

"I'll show you THE ITEM then." She reached under her bed, and removed a small metal crate, like something you'd see at a military surplus store. It was latched up tight, and had an antenna attached to one end. She set the crate down on top of her bed, and her fingers worked at loosening the latches. Dipper sat down across from her, excited. What was it? A dinosaur? A magic crystal? A bomb? An alien? "Dipper…" Wendy said. "Behold… THE ITEM!"

The box was empty.

The box also had a circular hole cut in the bottom.

"I thought you said THE ITEM was in there?"

"The item was in here! Where'd the item go?"

"We're not doing the deep gravelly voice anymore?"

"Okay, this is actually serious now. The… Ha ha!" She laughed nervously. "Ha ha! The item is… Ha ha! Okay, the item is gone. The item is loose. I didn't think the item would be able to chew through solid steel, but… There ya have it. Turns out the item can chew through solid steel. Good to know."

Dipper held the box up to the light to examine the hole. The edges were jagged and sharp. "Uh…" He frowned. "Mind telling me what the item _is_ , exactly?"

"Oh, you'll know it when you see it." She walked over to her desk, opened a drawer, and removed two thick pairs of leather gloves. "And you'll wanna wear these." She tossed him a few, and donned a pair herself. She also picked up the magnet gun.

"Right." Dipper frowned. "So it cut a hole in the bottom of the crate, and the crate is too heavy to move… That means to go anywhere, it would have to cut a hole in the floor too…"

"YEAH that's it!" Wendy snapped her fingers. "Help me move the bed!"

They moved her bed. Sure enough, where the crate had been, there was a big tear in the rug, and another one cut in the wooden floor.

"Under the house." They said in unison, and bolted for the window.

Their boots hit the ground outside, and the started circling around the cabin in opposite directions.

"Okay, you've still got that tracker?" Wendy asked. "It can tell the direction of the signal?"

"Yeah. You think it's still emitting a signal?"

"It's been signaling for the last 3 days, I don't know why it would stop now."

Dipper checked the tracker. "Looks like it's still under the house. Northern side. And… It should be trapped under there, I guess. Unless it can dig, or if it can open the little door out of the crawlspace… How many doors are there? And can it dig?"

"I've never seen it dig, but I'm guessing it'd be just dandy at it. As for the hatches, yeah… There's one hatch on my side, and another on yours, so I think that's it.

"Okay." Dipper said. "So now there's only two places it can get out. Unless we waste too much time, and then it can dig out who-knows-where."

"Yeah." Wendy nodded. "Okay… Here's how we're gonna do it: you're gonna get inside the crawl space over there, I'll get in over here, and we'll close the hatches up tight behind us. Then you make a big racket to drive it over my way. Soon as I have a clear shot, I'll snag it with the magnet gun. You got a flashlight?"

"You know I do."

So prepared, they entered the dusty, spider-webby, claustrophobic space between the ground and the cabin floor. Dipper from one side, Wendy from the other. It was so short down here that he had to crawl on his belly, being careful not to hit his head on the floor beams and the water pipes below the furnace. Although the leather gloves protected his hands, the dirt, splinters and cobwebs quickly covered his elbows, knees, neck and face.

His nose filled with dust. He sneezed. From the other side of the darkened space, he heard Wendy's voice. "Ha! You sneeze like a kitten!"

He frowned and shook his head. He'd never come up with a good retort for that.

As he scanned the darkness with the flashlight beam, he began to make a racket on the ground with his free hand, and hollering things like "Show thyself, you item! Go on and git, item! Where are you, item?! I'm coming for ya!"

He made his way toward the northern end of the building, where the tracker said it was.

Eventually, he heard a clicking and a scuffling and a buzzing, and the whatever it was darted off in Wendy's direction.

Off through the cobwebs, a blue flash of arcing electricity lit up the darkness as Wendy fired the magnet gun. There was a humming from the gun, and a loud metallic clank as it successfully grappled something, and Wendy hollered "I GOT IT! Okay, let's come on out!"

Dipper turned around and made his way back the way he'd come. He eventually found the door out of the crawlspace, squeezed through it, and found himself back in the sunlight. He looked down at himself. He was covered in dirt, cobwebs, and other such filth that resides in places where people don't go. _Man! What fun! What a joy! What a lovely day! And I'm doing it with Wendy! That makes it even better._

When he rounded the final corner of the house, he found Wendy just as filthy as he was (or even more; hair has a way of accumulating cobwebs.) She was turned away from him, her gloved hands cupped over something. "Dipper…" She said quietly, as she turned around and opened her hands. "Behold… THE ITEM…"

Dipper frowned, and took a step closer.

It was a robot.

It was shaped a little bit like a kitten, but with dull grey skin, brightly shining red eyes, little clawed tank treads on its hands and feet, and no ears. Instead of ears, it had a row of antennae in line with its shoulders, like a lion's mane. As Wendy handled it tightly with the gloves, it squirmed and scratched and swung its tail like a club, but it wasn't strong enough to escape. From its head came a raspy hissing noise.

"Hey, shush shush." Wendy hushed at it. "We're not gonna fight you. We're not gonna eat you. Wouldn't even wanna, I swear."

"Dude." Dipper stared at the item, his eyes wide and his mouth open. "It's a robot."

"Yeah." Wendy smiled and poked at its nose (or where a nose would have been; it had no nose.) "A little cat-rat-bot. Yes you are. Yes, you're a good little Item, aren't you?"

The robot opened its mouth and hissed angrily at her.

It wasn't a normal mouth. Instead of teeth, tongue, or gums, it had a series of hooks, a conveyor, and a row of razor sharp sawblades. This frightening apparatus made a loud buzzing sound as it spun up to speed, extended out its head about an inch, and latched onto Wendy's glove. She shook it off. The robot appeared to give up, leaving only a small scratch in the tough material.

"Yeah." Wendy nodded. "Watch out for the saws. Leather gloves always."

"Yeah. Makes sense." Dipper blinked and shook his head. "But look at that mouth! It looks like it could actually cut and eat stuff… Does it?"

"Oh yeah he does. He eats. Here, let's go inside. I'll show you."

A few minutes later it was back in its crate. They had reinforced the bottom with some sheet metal from the roof, so it couldn't cut through the bottom again. Instead, it was attacking the wall with its saw. Tiny little sparks flew around it, and there was a piercing screeching noise.

"Huh… He's cutting through the box again…" Dipper called over the noise.

"Play with him. Distract him. I'll be right back." Wendy went off toward the kitchen.

"Uh…" Dipper poked his glove in at it. "Hey buddy. How's it going? You little… Uh… Little robot cat, you… You're… Uh… Man you're weird. Who built you? Did McGucket build you? The government? Aliens? Come on Item, you gotta work with me…"

It clicked loudly at him, jumped up, and bit his glove. The saws cut a gash in the leather before it let go and fell back into the box.

Dipper got an idea.

He ran over to Wendy's desk, grabbed a pencil, and poked the sharp end in at the robot. Its eyes lit up a bright, annoyed red as it looked up at the offending tool.

"Hey buddy? You wanna sharpen a pencil today? Can you do that for me?"

The idea didn't work.

Wendy came back into the room holding a bucket of nails.

"Where's my pencil?" She asked.

Dipper pointed dejectedly toward the pencil-sized pile of sawdust beneath the robot.

Wendy laughed. "Yeah, I tried that too. Don't sweat it. Well, he really likes nails. You want a nail, Item?"

It did want a nail.

Its saws sliced and ground the nail into smaller pieces, then it pulled those smaller pieces inside with the conveyor. Another buzzing noise continued from its stomach even after the nail was all gone, which Dipper figured must be smaller grinders deeper inside it. It extended its tongue, a little magnetic roller, and licked up all the leftover iron filings.

When it was done, it seemed tired. It glanced up at the sun coming in through the window, turned around in a few circles, lay down, and extended its tail straight upwards. The tail unfolded into a wide circle of solar panels, which then angled to catch the sun. The robot itself appeared asleep.

Wendy and Dipper sat down on the bed and stared at it for a couple minutes.

"Dude." Dipper said. "This is the weirdest robot I've ever seen. It's like a real animal, but made of metal instead of fleshy stuff. I've never even see McGucket build something THIS good."

"I know, right?"

They were silent for a couple more minutes.

"Where'd you find it?"

"Out in the forest." She said. "Its tail was caught in a bear trap, so it couldn't recharge without the solar panels. It must've been dying or something. I pried open the bare trap, and this thing ran off. It was mostly out of power though, so I got it home easily enough. It found the wall outlet and started sticking its teeth in it. There was some sparks, and it got better pretty quickly."

"Its tail was caught in a bear trap? This thing is tough…"

"There was a big dent in its tail. But as it's been eating metal, the dent disappeared. Crazy, huh?"

"Yeah." Dipper scratched his head. "So… Are you… We… Someone… I… You… Gonna keep it, or what?"

"Well, if I wanted a pet I would have gotten something that can't chew through a steel crate." She shrugged. "Or my phone or my doorknob or the roof, for that matter."

"Fair enough."

"In fact." Wendy said. "The whole plan today was to get it off my hands. It's been sending out that distress signal ever since I found it huddled up in the woods. So I think it got lost or something, and it's trying to phone home. Candy Chiu gave me that antenna to boost the signal. Which I guess is how you detected it from all the way over at the Shack."

"And you were expecting somebody to come looking for it… Who were you expecting?

"I had no idea. My first guess would have been McGucket. My second guess would be some other evil mad scientist. My third guess was that this thing is like a cub or something, and that a mommy cat-rat-bot that would eventually come rolling out of the trees looking for it."

"And when I came by…" Dipper completed the story. "You were hiding up on your roof just in case mommy cat-rat-bot turned out to be the size of a bear."

"Exactly." She nodded. "I also rigged up a net. That way if mommy turned out to be smaller, like maybe R2-D2 sized, then I would catch her in a net and have two of them… You know, for science."

"For science."

They once again fell silent. Wendy glanced up at the sun.

"Well." She said. "It looks like about 4:30 now. We gave momma all day, so I say we kill the long-range antenna, and get back to this tomorrow."

"Makes sense."

"Say." Wendy said. "What do you think Mabel would think of this thing?"

"I don't know. She'd probably try to name it."

"It already has a name. THE ITEM, remember? Nice and ominous and vague."

"She won't like that. Too impersonal. She'll call it… Jessica. Or Sparkles. Or Buzz-Saw-Louis. Or something."

"Eh." Wendy shrugged. "Well, you guys won't mind if I stop in tonight to show it around, do you? I was kind of planning on it anyway, but it seemed polite to ask ahead of time…"

"No, come right on over!" Dipper smiled. "The Stans just got back into town earlier today, so we were gonna have a big 'ol campfire. Soos is bringing dawgs and s'mores, the Stans are bringing stories, and with you there, I guess we'll have some more stories, as well as a cat-rat-bot!"

"Stories, s'mores, robots and dawgs." Wendy nodded. "Sounds like a wild night. Well, what are you bringing, then?"

"Uh, well…" Dipper scratched his head. "Why, I'm bringing Mabel, of course."

* * *

Off toward the spooky end of the Forest, in a thicket of pines not so very far from the Mystery Shack, the entrance to a hidden bunker stood secure.

It had been over 30 years now since the dusty old lab had been buried and built in secrecy, and there were few people today who remembered it even existed. Of those who remembered, there were fewer still who knew their way past the security locks, and who might be able to get inside. And of those who could, not one of them wanted to. For within the structure's furthest, deepest corners, surrounded by impenetrable bedrock and sealed by airlocks and a maze of hydraulic presses, there was contained a single terrible monster.

He was frozen now; the safest, easiest, most humane solution they could ever manage. The cryogenic equipment kept his cells suspended in a delicate balance between life and death, somewhere beyond sleep, beyond a coma, beyond awareness or consciousness, but yet not quite death.

He would be in enormous pain when next he awoke. And chances are, he would be bitterly, furiously angry, for he remembered the people that had sealed him here, and he wanted more than anything to repay them in equal measures for his own suffering.

But the equipment was durable. The pipes were reinforced with steel and insulated asbestos wrapping, the circuits were sealed and waterproofed, and there was perhaps triple the necessary number of perpetual-motion generators needed to maintain the liquid nitrogen vats.

Everything had layers of protection and redundancy, so that total failure was almost impossible. If the monster ever was to be thawed, it couldn't happen by accident. Somebody would have to find their way past the security to the control room, and purposefully access the controls.

Today, somebody accessed the controls. The security system hadn't tripped, the cameras hadn't seen anything, and none of the doors had even opened, but still the perfect silence was broken by the working of fingers on the keyboard, and the darkness was broken by a few red status lights flashing, as the cryogenics deactivated.

He began to thaw.

And a voice spoke, remarking: "You were meant for so much more…"

* * *

 _Author's Note:_

Hey guys, this fanfiction is now fully illustrated! If you follow it on my Deviantart or Tumblr accounts, then you know that already, but if you're just reading this here, you'd have no way to know, so... There. Now you know.

Link to first illustration (replace spaces with periods): www deviantart com/codylabs/art/Welcome-to-the-Forest-745618529

Link to this chapter's picture (replace spaces again): www deviantart com/codylabs/art/Forest-of-Daggers-Chapter-1-745375320

Honestly, reading this on DevianArt is probably the best way to go with this story. You get the illustration right along with story, as well as author's notes and stuff. Just don't forget to review, no matter where you're reading!


	2. Stranger Tales

"Now we knew we didn't have long to get out of there, especially since the sled dogs would have been slowed down by the artifacts. But I had to go out and take a few more readings. Just to make sure it was how it seemed…"

The party huddled around the campfire, hanging on every word of Ford's story. Dipper and Mabel listened with wide eyes, Soos with eyes twice as wide, and Wendy with eyes half as wide. Stan interjected often, whenever some finer point about treasure or babes or brawling needed clarification.

"But it's like I was saying all along: none of it made any sense!" Ford continued. "The Aztecs didn't have the means to get all the way to Antarctica, so why was their cursed treasure buried down there? I went off to take some ice layer samples to make sure. But as it turned out: it was all a ruse! While I was off on that wild goose chase, Stan was alone at our camp, and guess who showed up? Guess who buried that treasure for us to find?"

"Jessica Spindlefoot…" Gasped Mabel.

Ford glanced sharply at her. "That's RIGHT…" He nodded, his voice low. The old adventurer knew just how to angle his head so that the fire reflected off his glasses directly into their eyes. Whenever his story needed that extra flair, he would do so, and dazzle them all over again. It was especially effective on Soos.

In fact, Soos was choking back tears. "That nasty old bounty hunter!" He cried, shaking a right fist and wiping his eyes with his left. "She'd already taken the mutant baby seals from you! What more could she possibly want?!"

"At first." Grunkle Stan interjected. "I thought it was just to taunt us one more time with that phony British accent. She got me tied up in the tent, and I thought I was in for a monologue. But when she just kept on walking, I knew she was after the spell book."

"NO…" Soos gasped.

"Yes." Ford nodded. "But Stan was more clever than she figured. He managed to loosen his bonds, get to the radio, and call me back to camp. I arrived in time to see her riding off into the sunset on her dogsled. I pulled out my rifle, loaded a single bullet into the chamber, drew a bead, and fired."

Dipper gasped in excitement. "You shot her?!"

"I shot the harness of her sled." Ford smiled.

Mabel gasped in horror. "You shot her dog?!"

"No." Ford made his glasses flash again. "Her dogs kept on running, happy as could be. But her sled slowed to a stop, and all she could do was stare at the severed rope, and say some very… Un-British things."

"Nice." Wendy said.

"But now here's the thing." Ford continued. "Summer and Winter are flipped in the southern hemisphere. We left in September, and got to the Antarctic in October, which is their spring. The ice was thawing then, so we only had a few months of their summer to get inland and conduct our investigations."

"It was cold." Stan explained.

"And we were running out of time." Ford added. "If the ice closed up again, our boat would have been locked in place, and we would have to winter there, eating seals and penguins. Living off the land; the most hostile land on Earth."

"Like Shackleton's crew…" Dipper nodded, recalling the books he'd read of the great Antarctic explorers of a past age.

"Exactly." Ford glanced proudly at his great nephew and tapped his temple. "But the bounty hunter knew that too, and thought that if she attacked us then, she could prevent us ever returning home. You can imagine how pressed we were for time after we dealt with her! The ice was closing up then, we were moving with two sleds and a prisoner in tow, and that's not even to mention the zombie penguins…"

"Zombie penguins?" Dipper frowned.

"ZOMBIE PENGUINS?!" Soos gasped.

"That's what happens when zombies get bitten by penguins." Mabel smiled.

"Oh for crying out loud." Wendy rolled her eyes.

"Zombie penguins." Ford nodded.

"For just a moment then." Stan laughed. "As those awful beady little glowing eyes and those rotting beaks were circling around us, I thought we were goners. But then Ford unties Jessica to help us fight, and boy could she fight! There were elbows flying, and fists swinging, and bones breaking, and all the little penguins giving their blood-curdling 'aw-awa-awwwwwkkkk's… We were standing back to back there for a moment, her and I, and I thought 'man, this girl is really something. I wonder if things could ever work out between us? Romantically, y'know?'"

Ford glanced at him. "Stan." He said. "She was a bounty hunter. Sent to steal our secrets and leave us for dead. She was only 'helping' us because all our lives were in danger. She tried to backstab us _4 separate times_. Remember? Do you _remember_ the quadruple backstab attempts?"

"What, you think she's too good for me?"

"She's 23 YEARS too good for you, Stanley."

"Ah ha! You were counting too, weren't ya? You old Bachelor!"

"Um… Um… Moving on." Ford decided.

"I wonder where she is now?" Stan pondered. "Probably still where we left her, chained to that lamppost in Argentina. Unless some fisherman came by who was dumb enough to be fooled by her fake British accent. That sweet, chipper, snarky British accent…"

"Moving ON." Stanford insisted.

"Oh, all right all right." Stan nodded. "All right all right… Okay! So! After we made it back North to Argentina, we needed a place to lay low for a while."

Ford laughed. "So we spent a week in this dirty little coastal town…"

"Wow!" Stan exclaimed, remembering. "I tell you what, you will never find a more wretched hive of scum and villainy! And the coffee wasn't bad either! We threw caution to the wind and gambled away all of the Aztec gold!"

Ford laughed and put an arm around Stan. "At least they thought we did!" He said, and reached a hand into his pocket. It came out holding a 6-fingered handful of gold coins, which he tossed around the fire. "And that wasn't even the best part!" He exclaimed.

"Yeah!" Stan said. "There was this gigantic old sailor, as big as your dad, Wendy, but with one eye, one leg, no hair, no habla Ingles, and this beautiful girl under his one arm. Now I mistook this guy for a piece of furniture, as anybody would, so I walked up to this girl and I said—"

"STANLEY!" Ford cleared his throat loudly. "Might. Not. Be the best story. Present company."

"Uh…" Stan looked around at the present company. His 13-year-old nephew. His 13-year-old niece. A girl. And Soos. "Uh." He said again. "Antarctica was REALLY cold."

"Wow." Soos whispered, drying one final tear. "You make it come alive."

"Yeah!" Mabel said. "That was an awesome story! I hope we get to meet Jessica Spindlefoot someday!"

"Um…" Ford said.

"Wait, but where did the spell book come from?" Dipper asked. "You just found it? Who wrote it?"

"Hmm?" Ford scratched his head. "Why, Jessica's long-lost twin sister, of course."

"SHE HAD A SISTER?" Stan jumped.

Ford's poker face cracked and broke into a smile, and he started laughing hysterically.

"Waaaaait a miiinute here!" Mabel said. "That seems reeeeally familiar from somewhere."

"YEAH!" Soos said. "You just made that up! You stole that plot twist straight out of Ducktective!"

Ford laughed. "Guilty, guilty. I'm sorry. It was worth the look on Stan's face… Anyway… Um…" He put his chin in his hand again, and frowned in thought. "Let's see… Other stories… Other… Stories… Let's see… Stan, what did we do in Chile again? Remind me?"

"There was that one warlord." Stan offered. "And the sugar plantations."

" _Sugar_?!" Mabel said. "On a _farm_?! Let's hear that story!"

"Um…" Dipper spoke up. "Actually, I think Wendy might actually have a story. A story that happened just the other day in fact."

"Well, don't let us old men steal all the thunder. Let's hear it!" Ford kicked back and speared a marshmallow on his knife.

"Sounds good to me!" Stan said, stooping to gather the gold coins that Ford had tossed about. "How's the digs been back here?"

"Is it a love story?" Mabel asked. "Or a revenge story? Or is it both, like Stan's?"

As he shoved an entire hotdog in his mouth, Soos rotated his body and turned his full attention on Wendy. "Dude! Wuzzwuhmuhfuhhuv, dude?" He asked past the hotdog, as little pieces of it fell into his lap.

"Uh…" Wendy smiled nervously under her friends' eager gaze, and ran a finger through her hair. "Yeah. I guess I got a few stories."

"Come on." Dipper coaxed her. "Tell everyone! You're part of the team, or whatever!"

"Honorary Pines family member!" Mabel added. "Like Soos!"

"If you don't tell." Soos said, swallowing the hotdog. "I've got a really great story too. I call it… _Soos' Really Great Water Heater Story™_."

"Okay, okay." Wendy said. "So. Hmm… Okay. It all started 4 days ago, when my brothers were watching TV. Usually everything's fine, even though we're so far away from the town and all that. But 4 days ago, something was up with the TV. Every couple minutes, they kept getting this weird glitch in the sound, like there was interference or something. Even when the program changed, the same glitch kept on repeating. They asked my dad what was the matter, and so he punched the TV, and then was all like. "Welp. That didn't fix it. Must be a problem at the station. Nothin' we can do about it." So. I thought it was a kind of weird problem for a station to have, so started using an old radio to try and pick out the frequency."

"Boring!" Mabel said. "That's like something Dipper would do!"

"Uh." Wendy looked at Dipper, and suddenly smiled. "Yeah… I guess it is… Um… Anyway, I managed to isolate the signal, even find it on my walkie-talkie. It was transmitting on a broader sort of frequency than normal radio signals, like something totally not-FAA-compliant."

"Boring!" Mabel said.

"Hey, I did some research, okay?" Wendy said. "I spent all day reading up on radio signals on the internet. I found out how to 'triangulate' things too. So I called Lee and Nate and had them stand on hills with their own radios to measure position and whatever. Long story short, I found out that this signal was coming from way off in the middle of nowhere. Off in the woods. I marked the place on my map, and Lee and Nate went home."

Ford sat forward. "The signal… I think I picked up that same anomaly when I got here last night!" He said. "Dipper said he wanted excitement, so I sent him after it. Dipper, did you ever find the source?"

"Oh no you don't, Great Uncle Ford." Dipper smiled and leaned back against a tree. "Wendy's telling this story now."

"So. Okay." Wendy continued. "That was 4 days ago. And I did basically what Dipper did today. I got some supplies together, like, backpack, knife, snacks, and whatever, and I set off into the woods to find the source of the signal. Took me about 4 hours, but I finally heard something off through the trees. Some weird buzzing noise. As I approached, I saw that the source wasn't anything like what I was expecting. It was some kind of animal, caught in a bear trap. The buzzing was it chewing on the trap, trying to escape. And it was like no animal any of us have ever seen before."

"A Snadger!" Mabel guessed.

"A laser snail!" Soos gasped.

"A money beetle." Stan theorized

"A teal platypus maybe?" Ford ventured. "From dimension 35~{? Did you get pictures?"

"Oh, I got better than pictures." Wendy said, as she reached behind her and removed the crate. But she didn't open it. She just held it there for them to look at. "But on with the story. I stuck a branch in the bear trap, and pried it open far enough to let this thing escape. And it did. It was barely even injured after all that time in the trap, but it was pretty exhausted from trying to escape, so it just sat there, looking confused.

"I thought to myself: 'seems harmless, right?' So I bent down and tried to pick it up. That was… Well, that was a mistake. That was a bad mistake. Which is why I always wear these leather gloves now. Whenever I'm dealing with this thing." As Wendy put on the gloves now, Dipper noticed for the first time that she had a bandage on one finger. "This thing is fierce." She continued. "And cunning. And fast. Slippery. I probably chased it around the forest for a good half hour. But fortunately, it doesn't have the greatest endurance. And although it's fast for its size, it can't outrun a grown human. I cornered it against a deadfall, and got close enough to tangle it in my net. I was real careful to stay clear of its mouth as I loaded it into my backpack and started home. Anyway. I've kept it in my room for the last few days. Been feeding it. Keeping it alive. It never stopped sending out its radio signal though, which is where Dipper comes in. Earlier today he tracked it to my house, and we've been hanging out and playing with it all day."

"You knew about this and didn't tell me?!" Mabel punched Dipper in the shoulder. "You meathead! I love Snadgers!"

"It's not what you think." Dipper said, as Wendy set down the metal box and popped the latches. "It's not a nice thing."

Wendy reached into the box and removed the robot.

In the firelight, it looked like something from a nightmare. Its plating glistened like silver and gold, its glowing red eyes stood out like embers, and its slowly spinning buzz saws glittered, casting fiery reflections about the huddled faces.

"I'LL CALL HIM JUAN!" Screeched Mabel. "Can I hold him?!"

Dipper, Wendy, Stan, Ford, and Soos all looked at her. Dipper rolled his yes.

Wendy blinked. "Okay." She shrugged, but handed Mabel a pair of gloves.

"Wow." Ford said, looking at the machine. "Don't you think we should name it something more vague and ominous? Like 'The Item' or something?"

"Nope!" Mabel decided. "He's Juan now! Aren't you little darling?! Yes you are!" Mabel picked Juan up, and cuddled him to her chest. Her chest that wasn't covered by the gloves.

"MABEL! JUAN HAS SAWS!" Dipper and Wendy yelped in unison.

"But you wouldn't use them on old aunt Mabel, WOULD YOU?" Mabel asked, hugging it tighter, and petting its antennae. Everybody tensed up, dreading the moment when she'd get the answer to her question.

But for some reason, the moment never came. In fact, Juan actually seemed perfectly placated. It rested its head against Mabel's chest, and began to make a little humming sound.

"No." Mabel answered her own question. "No, you wouldn't bite old aunt Mabel, would you? No you wouldn't. No you wouldn't. You're such a good boy."

"Why is it NOT attacking you?" Dipper frowned.

"It's Mabel." Wendy shrugged. "She has a magic touch. Animals love her."

"It's true!" Soos verified. "All the kinds of animals, dude! Dogs, cats, pigs, dudes, plants, people, Soos, robots, everything alive is okay with Mabel."

"That's because Aunt Mabel is the only one that ever hugs them!" Mabel declared. "Isn't that right, little Juan? Yes it is. Oh, you're such a little gentleman. Mommy Wendy and Daddy Dipper never showed you any love, did they? No they didn't."

"Mommy?" Wendy scoffed. "I ain't its mommy."

"Daddy?" Dipper scoffed at the same time. "I ain't its daddy."

"Gentleman?" Stan scoffed. "Mabel, this is a machine. Since when is it a guy?"

"Since look at him!" Mabel held Juan upside down for a moment to show them.

"Oh." Dipper said.

"Never noticed that." Wendy said.

"Welp." Stan said.

"FASCINATING!" Ford said.

"Dude!" Soos said. "He's got an ion cannon! Like in Star Wars!"

Everybody went quiet for a moment and looked at Soos. In the silence, Ford pulled out a notebook and jotted something down.

"Um." Wendy said. "In all seriousness, Mabel, this thing eats metal. I've seen nails, screws, those little metal caps that hold erasers to pencils, a matchbox car, even an old phone, all disappear inside this thing. And it uses those saws to do it. Those saws are razor sharp, spin really fast, and eat through iron and steel in a matter of minutes. Did I show you what he did to me?" Wendy took off her glove and held up a finger with a bandage on it. As she unwound the wrapping, she explained. "Never forget." She said. "Us humans are soft and pink. Which means that to anything else, anything made of metal, we may as well be butter. Skin. Muscle. Tendons. Bone. It's all nothing to things like him." The last of the bandage came off, and Wendy showed them the jagged, enormous cut that Juan's first touch had left.

Even Dipper hadn't seen this yet. His gut turned.

"MOSES!" Ford exclaimed when he saw the damage. "Are you alright?!"

"Well yeah. I mean, I know how to dress a wound or whatever."

"No!" Ford exclaimed. "I mean did you take it in to a professional or anything? A _real_ doctor?"

"Have you _met_ the doctors around here?" Wendy asked. "Last time I went in to see him, he smiled all proudly and said, (and I quote): 'I can verify that you are indeed injured.' This is what I have to deal with here."

"Even so…" Ford scratched his head.

"What?" She chuckled. "Did you have somebody to patch your boo-boos down in the Antarctic? I'm sure 'zombie penguins' were perfectly harmless, and I'm sure all the gorgeous bounty hunters just _jumped_ at the opportunity to dotter over you, huh?"

"Well…" Ford scratched his head and looked at Stan. "Help me out here, Stan. Kids can't just give themselves stitches, can they? Is that okay in this dimension? It isn't, is it?"

"Welp." Grunkle Stan grunted, standing up. "Only one thing makes sense to me here, and that's that this thing eats metal. I'm off to find everything precious to me and lock it up tight." He turned and started toward the RV.

"You want some Aztec gold?" Mabel asked Juan, holding up one of the Stans' souvenirs. "Pretty golden coin, Juan? Yes you do!" Juan's deadly saw apparatus opened up as it looked at the glittering disk.

Stan had almost reached the RV, but managed to turn around and sprint back to the campfire in the time it took Mabel to finish the sentence. "NO!" He cried passionately as he snatched the coin from her.

"Aww! Why not?" Mabel frowned, holding up Juan. "Just look at these adorable pleading eyes! Besides!" Her voice dropped to a whisper. "Juaaan is faaaamily nooooow…"

Stan shook his head. "Family or not, this freaky alien robot can't chow down on my hard-smuggled treasure! I wouldn't let YOU eat it either!"

"And, if I may." Ford said. "Logically, the only reason he's eating metal is to build more onto his body. To grow bigger, or maybe replace material that's rusted. And if he does that, gold doesn't seem very healthy, does it? It's too soft, and too heavy, and it melts too easy. It would make his bones fragile, or worse, whatever he uses to saw down food in his stomach would get dull, and he would stop being able to eat entirely."

"Besides, these coins are hecka cursed anyway." Stan added. "Just stealing them was enough to spontaneously throw out my back! I don't want to THINK about what eating one would do!"

"Ooh. Makes sense." Dipper nodded. "Wait, what SHOULD we be feeding him then? Are rusty nails okay?"

"Iron? I don't know. I don't know." Ford rested his chin in on six-fingered hand, and frowned down at the machine in Mabel's arms. "What powers it?" He asked. "Nuclear?"

"Batteries, I think." Wendy answered. "Those things in his tail unfold into solar panels. Or he can suck on wall sockets. He sniffed those out pretty fast."

"Never needs to refuel…" Muttered Ford. "It can sustain itself from the environment… Okay. Wendy, this 'Juan' thing is fairly important." He decided. "I need you to show me where you found him. Because this is…" He shook his head. "I've honestly never seen anything of the sort. A machine that can eat, forage, and survive like a living creature… Maybe even REPRODUCE… This is a tremendous milestone for both engineering, AI research, and biology. And if there are more of them, or if they get bigger… Well. A lot of people could get hurt. I need to find where this is from, who made it, and why."

"Yeah dude. I'd be more worried about the ion cannon though." Soos added.

"Awe, c'mon great uncle Ford!" Mabel elbowed her great uncle. "We can handle this, right? We can return an adorable little robot to its parents. And you've been off doing the whatever in Antarctica all year, so you deserve some time off. What have we been doing? Huh? School clubs and homework! That's what!"

"Wendy axed some monsters…" Dipper muttered.

"Asked them what?" Mabel asked.

"Axed. AXED, Mabel. With an X. Not asked." Dipper clarified.

"Uh…" Ford wrung his hands together. "Uh… Okay." He said. "I suppose you have some experience already… So… Ha. Well, who am I kidding? I'm not your parents! I'm just an uncle! You kids keep an eye out, wear gloves, and have fun!"

* * *

The Northwest Mansion had big, magnificent oak doors, ornately decorated and absurdly expensive. Just looking at them was enough to make an average person feel intimidated by the power and the exquisite taste of the family that had placed them there. The doors had always stood as a symbol of the family's separation. They kept the rabble out, they kept the rich high. Untouchable. Superior. Everybody but them had hated those doors.

But as the kids approached the building the next morning, they saw that it wasn't the Northwest Mansion anymore. It was under new management now, by better men. Now, the oak was in a dump somewhere, and it had been replaced with a pair of even thicker doors made of half-inch steel plating, hydraulically locked and nearly indestructible. They weren't as pretty, but they were cheaper, they were tougher, and they were better.

But they weren't intimidating. That's because there was an unlocked screen door right next to them, and anybody could use that whenever they wanted.

When Dipper, Mabel, and Wendy stepped off their bikes in front of the manor, they used the screen door.

"Visitors!" A scrawny old man greeted them in the mansion's foyer.

Dipper turned at the sound of the voice and was hit with a moment of cognitive dissonance. This couldn't be the same man. Could it?

"McGucket?" Dipper asked.

"Whaaaaa?" Mabel asked.

The old man laughed. Wendy laughed.

He adjusted his glasses and rubbed the chin where the gigantic beard had been, and stretched his back experimentally, as if still growing accustomed to walking upright. "Well." He said. "I'll reckon I look a sight better, don't I?"

He was wearing shoes. And a shirt with a collar. And better glasses. For the first time in 30 years, Fiddleford McGucket was actually looking… Respectable.

"McGucket, you look…" Dipper stuttered.

"You look like a MR. McGucket!" Mabel said.

The old man laughed, showing them his teeth, which were still uneven and partially gold. His laugh died off into a squeaky hillbilly cackle, and he smiled.

He was still the same man inside. Every ounce of him was exactly as it was.

Except he was fixed.

"You look like a _Dr._ McGucket, actually." Dipper said, and extended his hand. "It's good to see you like this. Really. It's good to see you."

The older man took it, and they shook.

McGucket grinned. "Wull, I'm tickled tah see you too, Mr. Pines." He said. "You ain't changed a wink. Except that I ain't walkin' hunched anymore, which means that you must've gotcherself taller. And yer voice is finally changin' proper, and yah got a better hat."

"Heh heh. Thanks." Dipper smiled.

"Yeah." Wendy said. "Nice hat. That old one really sucked. Whatever happened to that?"

"Wull I wouldn't say it sucked but—Huh…?" McGucket pointed to the blue hat on Wendy's head. "Hey wait a minute here…"

"Okay, never mind the hat." Dipper said. "McGucket, we have something to show you."

"A robot!" Mabel said. "A robot cat named Juan."

"It's a really advanced robot." Dipper said.

"We were wondering if you had anything to do with it." Wendy said. "Like, we know you don't USUALLY build anything smaller than a car, but we didn't know who else could do it."

"It's in the box." Mabel said. "Unless it cut through again."

"It's still here." Wendy shook the box to make sure.

"Wear these." Dipper gave McGucket the gloves.

"Well, now hold on a minute here, sonny." He said, taking a step back toward his room. "I didn't know I'd be working today. Let me change into some new pants."

"Your pants?" Wendy asked. "What's wrong with your _pants_?"

"They're tiring! I can't walk and stand for so long without some robotic assistance! I'm old!"

"Robotic assistance? Wait a minute." Dipper said. "You're saying that you invented _robo-suit exoskeleton pants_ … Because you get _tired_."

"That's right."

Dipper blinked. "We love you McGuckett."

Mabel nodded. "Keep being McGuckett, Mcguckett."

He returned in a few minutes taking longer strides, as the metal structure over his legs whizzed and whirred.

"That's that." He said. "Take note, kids; you'll be old one day too, you should know the tricks while you're young. Now come on, then! Let's head into my shop." He turned and beckoned them through a humble looking door.

Beyond it, the entire Eastern wing of the manor had been transformed into a workshop. Machines lay on workbenches, slouched against the walls, or hung from the ceiling. Tools, papers, computers, and tiny parts littered every available surface. From hidden speakers, the space was flooded with the sound of Bluegrass.

As they entered this mess, a spring seemed to enter McGucket's step. He danced through the clutter with familiarity and ease, humming in tune to the music, smiling his golden smile. Dipper realized the man was happy. Years of insanity and evil-mad-scientistness had been stripped away, and he was left with what lay beneath: a peaceful, driven, kind mind. This was the McGucket that always should have been.

"Ah ha!" He cried, after a minute of searching through the clutter. "Here's a clear spot. Pull up some rusty metal, fellers. And set it down here."

Wendy did. She popped open the box, reached in, and removed Juan.

The robot kitten stuck out its buzzsaws and hissed when it saw them. It didn't like being put in a box any more than a normal cat.

"Oh my. Oh me on my." McGucket watched as Wendy set it on the table.

It hissed again, and turned around in a circle, looking for a way to escape. Seeing none, it finally it decided it was hungry, and poked at some other machine on the workbench. It cut loose a small scrap of metal, and ate it. "Oh MY…" McGucket said again.

Now the robot wasn't hungry anymore, and it walked back up to Mabel, making a sound not dissimilar to a purr. Mabel said something adoring and picked it up.

McGucket leaned in close. And closer. And closer. Finally Juan reached a foot out and bopped his nose with its tread. "Oh my…" He repeated one more time.

"Yeah." Dipper said. "So… I'm guessing you don't recognize this guy? You weren't the one that built him?"

"Uh…" McGucket left their side, and darted off through the shop, picking up a tool here, and a tool there. He made his way back with a library of tiny instruments, and laid them out on the table. "Could I take that there machine…?" He asked Mabel.

She handed it to him.

McGucket set it down, and began to examine it with the instruments. Scanning. Zapping. Poking. Prodding. He even shoved a screwdriver under the panel on Juan's shoulder and pried upwards, to look at what lay beneath the plating. It yelped in pain and spun its saws at him. "Oh my…" He repeated again, removing the intrusive tool. "I need to take an X-ray."

And that's how it went for about twenty minutes. McGucket ran around the shop with Juan, muttering to himself, and scratching his head, taking tests.

Dipper looked at the pictures from the X-ray.

Beneath Juan's smooth and hard exterior plating, he was phenomenally complex. Gears, cogs, cams and motors of miniscule size, all stacked perfectly and exactly. Pipes and wires going down smaller than the pictures could show. There were no bolts or screws or rivets or welds holding it together. It was all one coherent piece. It didn't look like a blueprint. It looked like an anatomy.

McGucket finally finished his tests, returned to the workbench, set Juan down, and put his hands on his hips.

"I ain't built this." He said.

"Then who did?" Dipper asked. "The government? Did they use some of your patents? Did you ever invent anything that could… Eat? Reproduce? Or is this some kind of alien machine? Are there aliens?"

"No." He said. "The government didn't build this. And no. Aliens didn't build this. This robit is… Too advanced. Too advanced for me, or for the government, or for aliens. Near as I can figure, this robit is impossible for people. In my whole life, I've only ever seen this level of engineering in one other place."

"Where?"

"Right here." He held up his hands, and wiggled his fingers. He opened his mouth, and pointed inside it. He pulled up his eyelid, and pointed to his eyeball. "This." He said, pointing back to Juan. "Is the level of irreducible complexity that doesn't come from people. This machine, this Juan, is SO good… That, in my professional opinion, it could only have been created by God. Big 'G'. GOD. I don't know how, but this robit isn't a machine. It's a metal animal. It's NATURAL."

* * *

Illustration for this chapter (replace spaces with periods):

www deviantart com/codylabs/art/FOD-Chapter-2-752404599


	3. Hunt the Huntress

"So Ford was right!" Mabel exclaimed. "There ARE more out there!"

"It's better than that!" Dipper added. "If this really is robotic life, life doesn't work alone! That means there's a whole ECOSYSTEM out there! A robot ecosystem somewhere out in the forest! Just waiting to be found!"

Wendy was strangely silent. "Hmm." She said.

They found their bikes outside the manor, and began to mount up.

"That means Juan has a mom and dad to go home to!" Mabel said, stepping on the first pedal. "I'm so happy for him! But I need to get all my cuddling done now before you guys find them!"

"Cudling. Right. Sure." Dipper said. "Okay! Wendy. Where did you find this thing? Let's head back to that area of the forest, and have a look around! See if we can't find some other signals or footprints to track…"

"Wait!" Mabels said. "They don't have footprints! They have tank tracks on their feet! So it'll be tracking track tracks!"

"Ha ha! Track track track…" Dipper laughed. "Right?"

"Yeah." Wendy mumbled, her voice still quiet. "Let's do that."

"HOLD UP THERE, FELLERS!" McGucket's voice interrupted them. "I think I may have somethin' fer ya ta use!"

"'Sup?" Dipper asked.

"Eh, just these contraptions here." McGucket pulled a half dozen cup-sized devices out of his pocket. "I hootinannied up a couple radio transmitters to give out the same signal that your robit does. So you can use 'em for bait, decoys… I ain't rightly sure how ya plan ta go about this, but if you ever wanna use 'em, just flip that there switch."

"Hey, thanks!" Dipper took two, and Wendy took the rest.

"Yeah, awesome!" Mabel said.

"No problemo!" McGucket did a happy little jig, turned back toward the manor, and waved goodbye.

"That's so great!" Mabel said. "You're so totally prepared for this now!"

"Wait, aren't you coming?" Dipper asked.

"No, I've got to introduce Juan to Candy, Grenda, and Waddles! They'll adore him! Could I have the other pair of gloves?"

"Uh…" Dipper handed them to her. "Sure. Just… Um… Just keep an eye out, all right? We don't know if Juan's family is gonna come back for it, and they could be… Dangerous…"

"Okay." Mabel said. "I'll stay in the shack then, and invite everyone over! Ford has ray guns. He won't let people near."

"Hmm." Wendy mumbled. "Yeah. You go do that."

"Hey." Dipper noticed his friend's grim expression. "What's bugging you?"

"Here, take the box, Mabel." Wendy said. "Run on ahead. I think my bike has a flat tire; we'll catch up."

"All right!" Mabel rode off merrily with Juan in her bike's basket. The little creature chirped happily in the breeze. (Aunt Mabel definitely was its favorite.)

Dipper turned back to Wendy, and her bike with perfectly fine tires. "Hey." He said. "What's wrong?"

She sighed, and thought for a moment. "Have you ever played 'Space Androidoid 2?'" She asked.

"Space androidoid?" He frowned at the change in subject, and worked his memory. "Wasn't that a game franchise back in the 90's or whatever?"

"Yeah. Soos plays it. Have you played it?"

"No."

"Okay." She said. "So… In this game, you play a bounty hunter. The android, yeah? This bounty hunter was sent to this dangerous planet, the homeworld of this super dangerous alien creature. Right? These creatures are nearly extinct, but the last of the species are on this planet. They may be dangerous, but there's not many of them left, right?"

"Right."

"In the game, your job is to kill them. You have to kill them. Every last one of them. Because the risk they pose is too great. If they fell into the wrong hands, if they spread across the universe, if they grew larger… The risk is too great. People could die. So… They need to die. Every last one of them."

"You're saying…?" Dipper glanced over his shoulder, to make sure Mabel hadn't doubled around and snuck back near, as she was prone to do. "You're saying… We should kill these things? Exterminate them?"

"I'm telling you that it might be the best option. Depending on what we find in the forest today, we might need to. I'm preparing you for that."

"That's… Wendy, that's wrong. We can't just… Exterminate an entire species. Just because they're different than us, or just because they scare us. It's irresponsible. It's ruining the environment. It's destroying something priceless and irreplaceable…"

"Heck YES it's destroying something priceless and irreplaceable. Heck YES it's ugly, and there would probably be a better solution if we were richer, wiser, or more powerful. But at the end of the day, that may be the only solution we have. And they aren't just different, they're dangerous." Wendy showed him her bandage. "Juan is a juvenile the size of a kitten, and he almost cut my finger in half. Could have done worse is he was on full charge, or if he were actual trying. This took him about half a second. Now ask yourself, how big do these things get? The size of a person? The size of a cow? The size of a car? A bulldozer? A house?"

"We have literally no idea…"

"Imagine the worst-case scenario, dude." Wendy said. "The very worst. Imagine if they were really big, like tank-sized, and found out they could leave the forest. Imagine if they found out that the wide world is filled with metal: cars and buildings and those guardrails on the roadside and telephone wires… In civilization, they would have all the metal they could eat, and no natural predators. They could cut a car in half and eat it. With the people still inside. They could chop bridges up and let them crumble. When the military comes to evac the town in their helicopters, they could jump out and chop up the choppers. With the people still inside. When they roll down the roads to the big city, they could eat away at the foundations of the big skyscrapers like beavers, and let them fall. With the people still inside. The government might have to nuke the city. WITH THE PEOPLE STILL INSIDE. Are they bulletproof? We don't know. Can they shrug off an RPG? We don't know. Are they invulnerable to nuclear fallout? We don't know. Can they swim? We don't know. How fast do they eat, grow, and reproduce? We. Don't. Know."

"Wendy… You're being paranoid."

"So? Our paranoia is what keeps us alive. And keeps others alive. People of our 'profession' can't afford ANYTHING less."

Dipper considered this long and hard. "But… We don't even know that they're that bad at all… What if they don't get much bigger than a dog? What if they could be easily domesticated, or trained not to eat stuff we like? What if it could actually all turn out to be just like Mabel sees it: happy and adorable..."

Wendy threw her arms in the air. "Yeah!" She said. "That would be great! That would be the most awesome thing in the world! My brothers would totally LOVE a robot dog! Mabel would too! But… But remember the last adventure we had together? YOU were the one who taught me a real meaty lesson that day: life isn't Mabel Land. If we think it is, if we pretend it is, if we forget our troubles and focus on being positive, then that's not real. If we do that, people die. I'm not saying we need to kill the cat-rat-bots, dude. Heck, everything we've been saying here has been straight-up speculation. We don't know a thing about these creatures. But if they are hostile, if they're highly dangerous, we need to be prepared to do anything. Murder an entire race. Do a cover-up. Burn a forest down; I don't know. And in the end, hardest of all, we'll need to explain it all to Mabel."

Dipper felt a terrible and ungainly weight on his shoulders; a looming dread. And he knew that Wendy was right. If these things were hungry and mean, if peace was not an option, she was right. It really could be us-or-them. He finally answered. "I'm glad you sent Mabel off before describing this."

Wendy beamed, and stuck up her thumb. "Yeah! No problem, dude. I got yer back."

Dipper nodded. "I guess you're right though… I guess you're right."

"These are the tough calls, Dipper." Wendy swung her bike around to the direction of the road, and began pedaling. "Depending on what we find out there, sooner or later… These are the tough calls we'll have to make."

* * *

A half hour later, Dipper and Wendy left their bikes at the end of a logging road, and started into the trees.

Two hours after that, the found themselves deep in the forest, in the cool and quiet stillness beneath the massive trees. Somewhere far away and high up, a lonely woodpecker drilled into a trunk, and its tapping echoed hauntingly through the forest, the only living sound. Wendy folded up her map and slipped it back into her pack. "This is it." She said. "This is the place."

The bear trap lay in the same place she'd found it, the branch she'd used to pry it open still wedged between its jaws. And the rusty metal of the trap itself was scarred and cracked in places where Juan had grinded on it, in his futile efforts to escape.

"Okay." Dipper nodded, and pulled out the radio tracker. "Let's see if I can find a signal of some kind…" The devices speaker warbled with unclear static, spun lazily around a few times, and finally pointed back the way they'd come. "No good." He said. "It's still just picking up Juan. I wonder… If it DOES have a mother of some type that's supposed to home in on its signal, I wonder where it is now? It's been 3 days…"

"Maybe its mother abandoned him." Wendy suggested. "Maybe it was here, and since it didn't have hands, it saw that it couldn't free him from the bear trap without destroying him. So it just left him. Started ignoring his signal."

"That would make sense…" Dipper nodded. "But what do we do now?"

Wendy looked around, and then pointed to the next ridge. "Well. Maybe if we head up there and hit one of McGucket's transmitters, she'll see the source has moved, and understand he got free. Worth a try, right?"

Dipper nodded, pulling out a decoy. "Good idea. And while we're walking, keep a look out for… You know… Like, anything."

"Oh, I have been." Wendy assured him. "Way ahead of you. Way ahead."

"Seen anything?"

"Nope."

"Well."

The ridge turned out to be a little taller than it looked from a distance. And a little steeper. They were on their hands and knees now, half walking, half pulling themselves past the rocks and roots. Though the sun remained obscured behind the trees, Dipper soon found himself sweaty and weary. _Sports._ He growled to himself. _Why have I never done sports? Maybe a little football, or… Track, or… Wrestling or something, would have given me some better cardio. Should have known this was waiting for me. Man. Now I'm like a second-class-adventurer._ He looked up at Wendy's backside, progressing further and further ahead of him. _She's the athletic one. The dangerous one. And I'm the smart one. Right? I always was the smart one. But now she's in on everything I was. And she's been at it all year. She probably knows more than I do. She's probably more curious, more clever, and smarter than I am. The journals are gone, and she has her diary… What do I bring to the table now?_ When Wendy got more than 20 feet further up than him, she seemed to notice his exhaustion, and stopped to let him catch up.

"You need a minute?" She asked when he passed her.

He thought about this briefly, but his sense of manly honor allowed only one answer to pass his lips. "Nah." He said. "I'm good… We've gotta be halfway, right?"

"Uh…" She gazed down the slope. "Yeah." She said. "A third at least. But it's best not to think about it like that. Think of something else."

They climbed on in silence, as Dipper tried to think of something else to think about. He settled on Gideon Gleeful for no real reason, and spent the rest of the climb nursing silent grudges and wondering how that kid had turned out.

"Hey, we're basically to the top!" Wendy finally announced.

Dipper was right behind her. He breathed deeply, rubbed his sore arms, and leaned against a tree.

"Ugh." He said. "This hill looked way shorter from the bottom."

"Yeah." Wendy nodded, leaning against a different tree. "Yeah. So. We're up here now. The radio signal can probably reach the whole valley… How we gonna do about this?"

"Okay…" Dipper said, looking around. "Let's put the decoy up in a tree or something, so it gets even better range."

"I have a better idea. Since the idea is for it to think the decoy is its baby, why would we put it up a tree? How would its baby got all the way up a tree? I think we should put ourselves up in a tree instead. So we can see it coming and stay out of danger."

"Alrighty." Dipper said. "This is going here then." He dropped the decoy on the ground.

"Nope." Wendy reached into her backpack and removed a large net. "It's going on top of this. Did your dad ever teach you how to rig up a trap like this?"

"No."

"Oh. Well here, I'll show you."

Twenty minutes later, the decoy was transmitting, the trap was set, and the two teens were thirty feet above it, trying to find some way to get comfortable up among the sharp and pokey branches. Wasn't long before Dipper got sort of bored. "So." Wendy broke the silence. Apparently, she was just as bored as him. "How about that Pacifica brat? Mabel said she asked you on a date or something?"

"OH OH UH… Yeah." Dipper looked up at her branch, and scratched the back of his head nervously. "Yeah. Yesterday. She… Well, she's actually changed. A little. I think. She's not a brat very much I guess… I mean… She's not super mean, really, and… And she can actually be a hero when she needs to. Anyway, I said yes, and… I guess it'll kind of be my first date."

"Oh yeah? That's cool. Where you guys going?"

"I guess we're going to the… Uh… I don't know what it's called, but it's like a seafood place. Mabel says she went there with Gideon once. And she says the food is really fresh. But she said the word 'fresh' all slow and menacing, so I'm not sure what she actually meant."

"Huh. Sounds awesome." Wendy nodded.

"Yeah."

"Y'know, I've never really had seafood." Wendy said.

"Me neither." Dipper shrugged. "But it sounds like it could be pretty fun. Pacifica said the Caviar is really good."

Wendy seemed to consider this for a moment. "The Caviar."

"Yeah."

"…You poor jerk. You don't even know what Caviar is, do you?"

"No." He admitted.

"Me neither." She shrugged. "Probably some kind of enchiladas."

"Yeah, probably."

"What are you gonna wear?"

"I don't know. Something, uh… Some fancy color. Like black pants, and, uh… A black shirt… That… Goes over top of a white shirt or something. Like whatever Bipper wore. Mabel said that he looked pretty nice."

"Yeah, he was pretty dapper."

"Yeah. Can't be too hard. I'll figure something out."

"When is this date?"

"Thursday."

"You should probably figure that out sooner rather than later. Correct me if I'm wrong, but right now your entire wardrobe consists of socks, underwear, brown shorts, red t-shirts, and that vest."

"Well, no… I… I… They're all different…"

He felt his gaze on her, looked up, and met her eye. She frowned very slightly. "Which means." She reasoned. "That every day I've ever seen you… You've been wearing the exact same shirt and pants. The. Exact. Same."

"UH…" He struggled to weasel his way out of this. Had he really? He thought he'd just been procrastinating washing his clothes. Sure, some mornings he just picked up his shirt and pants where he'd tossed them the previous night, but had he REALLY done that EVERY morning? Was he seriously that bad? "Uh…" He repeated.

"I knew it." She snapped her fingers and leaned back against the tree trunk. "It's true. You never change your clothes. That means I win the bet. Ford has to pay up."

"UH…" He struggled. "How about you, then? Your shirt and pants have stayed the same color since as long as I can remember…"

"Woah, dude, chill. This is my lucky jacket. And I do have other things besides grey jeans."

"Like what?"

"Like… I have some red pants… And a dress. And my dad gave me a kilt at some point."

"Red pants. Red."

"Yeah."

"And a dress."

"Uh-huh."

"And a kilt."

"My dad has… Eccentricities."

"Have you ever worn any of those items?"

"Umm… Well… No."

Dipper smiled with smug satisfaction. She'd fallen right into her own trap. "You know what they say…" He chided, as he leaned back and inspected his fingernails. "Those who live in glass houses shouldn't throw dirty laundry."

"Oh yeah, Mr. Kitten-Sneeze?" She retorted, sitting forward. "Well people who live in wooden houses shouldn't roast."

"Yeah?" He retorted. "Well people who live in ice houses shouldn't blow steam."

"Yeah? People in paper houses shouldn't choose scissors."

"Yeah? People in gallium houses should stay chill."

"Yeah? People in spiky houses shouldn't trip and fall on their face."

"Yeah? People in straw houses shouldn't lose needles."

"Yeah? People in bubble houses shouldn't even walk."

"Yeah? People in golden houses shouldn't… Uh… Okay, I got nothing."

Their intellectual debate was suddenly interrupted by a noise from below. Their eyes swiveled downward, and stared at their new visitor. They both grinned, half in satisfaction, half in horror.

The parent had returned.

It was the perfect image of Juan, but scaled up to roughly the size of a lion. Its legs were longer and leaner, its back was wider and flatter, its treads were wider and more rugged, and its head was the size of a wheelbarrow. For a machine of its size, it moved surprisingly quiet. Almost silent, but for the occasional snapping twig beneath its treads.

Unlike its child, which had been shelled in silvery, bright plating, the parent appeared as a matte grey/brown, with a oil-like bluish sheen. Almost so dark that it blended in with the forest floor.

If these robots were, as they suspected, part of some unknown larger ecosystem, what role would these cat-like units play in that system? Dipper began to strongly suspect that Juan, and his parent here, must be the predators. Their eyes were in front, they moved silently and directly, and they had a large system of hooks in their mouth, as if for spearing and grappling. They were looking at a robot designed for hunting, killing, and eating other robots.

So rad.

Wendy took out her phone and began taking a video. Dipper took out disposable camera and began snapping pictures. The lion-bot seemed oblivious to them as it moved through the trees. Its dark red eyes swiveled back and forth across the ground, searching carefully for its target.

"Man." Wendy whispered under his breath. "Soos is gonna flip when he sees this."

"Soos and I are pterodactyl bros." Dipper mentioned off-hand. "I wish he didn't have to stay back at the Shack. He'd love this thing."

"What's pterodactyl bros?" Wendy asked. "And doesn't that have a 'P'?"

"It's like blood brothers, but totally dinosaur-centric in every way. And the 'P' is silent."

"Makes enough sense…"

The antennae mane of the lion-bot extended up and outward now, fanning out like a radar dish. It turned its head side to side, scanning. Then the antennae retracted, and it turned around to look directly at McGucket's decoy.

"This guy is too big to trap in the net…" Dipper groaned.

"Yeah…" Wendy ran her fingers through her hair. "She's gonna set off the trap anyway, but then just escape, and then… Then what do we do? How are we gonna find her again? How are we gonna track her back to where she's from?"

Dipper racked his brain. Finally something occurred to him. "Wendy! Give me the magnet gun!"

As she handed it down, he pulled out his swiss-army knife. He unscrewed the side of the gun, reached into its mechanisms, and removed one of its neodymium magnetic armatures.

"What's that?" Wendy asked.

"This." Dipper answered. "Is a rare-earth magnet. One of the strongest on Earth. You got some tape?"

"No."

"DANG IT… Uh… I'll just use my sock."

He took off his right shoe and sock, squeezed the magnet into the sock, then squeezed another one of McGucket's decoys in on top of it. Then he tied the mouth of the sock closed, and was left with a finished product.

"Ah." Wendy nodded. "I get it."

Dipper smiled as he put his shoe back on. "Poor man's GPS tracker." He said proudly. Then he turned it on, and held the package out at arm's length over the net. "Now come on, girl. Just a little closer…"

The lion-bot wandered over toward the decoy at the bottom of the tree, and began to circle around it curiously. Its antennae extended again, as if to make sure that this was, indeed, the source of the signal. When it decided it was, it angrily stepped on the decoy, destroying it instantly. The robot began to look around and turn in a circle. And at a single moment, it was directly beneath them.

Dipper dropped the package.

It fell silently and unceremoniously straight down for 30 feet, and finally connected with the lion-bot directly in the small of its back. With a loud 'CLUNK' it stuck and attached, and the magnet kept it secure.

"YES!" Dipper cried.

"DUDE!" Wendy congratulated him.

The robot seemed to panic at the impact, and stumbled around just enough to set off the trap.

The net jerked up around its front left leg, and tangled in place. The robot thrashed for a minute, backing away. Then it noticed the rope holding the net in place. Its head opened up and its mouth extended.

Dipper and Wendy stopped smiling, for the hooks in its mouth were the size of steak knives. As for the saws, they were easily as big around as dinner plates, and there were about 5 of them.

The lion-bot clipped the net with the saw, and it fell away. The robot stepped free. Then, forgetting both the net and the tracker on its back, it turned its eerie red gaze up toward Dipper and Wendy.

"Welp." Wendy said. "It occurs to me that it can chop down trees."

"You know what?" Dipper said. "Today was fun."

The robot retracted its saws, and swatted at the trunk of their tree with one paw. The tree shook heavily, and Dipper grabbed a nearby branch to steady his balance.

"Plan." Wendy said.

The robot turned the top of its head forward, and rammed the tree with the entire weight of its body. The tree shook so violently that Dipper had to grab the branch to keep from falling off, and it almost didn't work.

"Plan." Wendy repeated.

"What do we have?" Dipper asked. "Do we have, like, weapons?"

"Between the two of us." Wendy recited. "We have two axes, three knives, four decoys, two walkie-talkies and a magnet gun that's missing an armature."

"Actually." Dipper pulled another magnet gun out of his backpack. "I brought one too. You just had yours handy… Uh… Take mine."

"I was gonna say…"

The tree shook again as the robot spun its saws up to speed and began to cut away at the base of the trunk. It was cutting FAST.

"PLAN." Wendy repeated once more.

"Okay…" Dipper racked his brain, and finally got an idea. When it came, he began speaking fast. "…Okay, Check this thing out. It's got no ears, and no nose. Just its eyes, and those antennae. So I'm guessing it usually tracks prey by sight and electromagnetic junk. Us meatbags got none of that junk, so if we're out of sight, then it's lost us."

"Climb down the tree then." Wendy said. "Climb down to just out of reach. When the tree topples, we hit the ground running, and get hidden as fast as possible."

"Yeah." Dipper began his descent. It was counterintuitive, climbing down TOWARD the hostile thing. But he understood the sense in it. The higher up they were, the faster they would hit the ground.

"Worse comes to worse." Wendy added. "This gun's 'pulse' setting fried my old phone from 20 paces. It could be deadly to this girl."

"Yeah." Dipper nodded, while silently praying that they wouldn't have to kill it. It was just looking for its child. It had been deceived, and ensnared, and taunted from above. Now it was just as angry as anyone would be. It didn't deserve to die.

Wendy seemed to read his thoughts. "I don't want to do it either, man. Which is why I haven't done it yet. But it's just an animal. Like we talked about; us or them! Now get ready!"

The pile of sawdust beneath the lion-bot's apparatus was growing, and the tree was swaying more and more. Now there was a cracking noise, and the tree was going down.

"JUMP!" Wendy called, and they did.

Dipper heard the tree crash to a stop behind him, and he hit the ground running, aiming for the nearest, thickest tree. He ducked down behind it, and took a deep breath. These trees were very old, very thick, and large. Room enough for a teenage boy to hide behind most any of them. A few seconds later, Dipper hazarded a look back at the scene of the fallen tree.

The robot turned in a circle about thirty feet away, looking for a sign of them. It had its antennae out, so Dipper supposed his guess must have been correct: it used electrical signals to find its prey, and they had stumped it, just by virtue of being human.

Wendy was nowhere to be seen. Good.

In a moment when the robot was turned away, Dipper sprinted off toward a different, further tree. So it continued. Eventually he was able to put some distance between himself and it, and could just barely pick out its movement through the trees.

It moved around, this way and that. Sometimes nearer, sometimes further. As if it believed they were still near, and didn't understand where they could have gone.

At long last, it turned, retracted its saws, and retreated down the far side of the ridge. It moved down the embankment with agility and speed, almost identical to that of a real lion.

When all had been silent for 5 minutes, Dipper again decided to breathe easy, and stepped out from behind the tree.

He met back up with Wendy near where they had split.

"Good plan." She told him. "I noticed the no-ears-no-nose thing, but I guess I never put it together that it actually COULDN'T hear or smell."

"Yeah, thanks!" He ran his fingers aggressively through his hair, just to dispel the pent-up adrenaline. "WOW, that was intense!"

"Yeah dude! Totally crazy. Did you get pictures of it?"

"Heck yeah, but not after the action started. Did you get footage?"

"I dropped my phone somewhere… Ah ha! Here it is! And the camera is still running! That means it got all of it!"

"AWESOME!"

Dipper pulled out the radio tracker, and tuned it back to Juan's frequency.

The needle pointed decisively down the ridge, in the direction that the mother had disappeared. "Hey, I'm tracking her!" Dipper said. "The magnet kept the decoy still attached to her!"

"Dude!" Wendy said. "That means mission success! Woot woot!"

"Mission epic success!"

"Dude!" She said again. "We survived a robot lion attack today! Gimme some!" She held up her hand.

Dipper high-fived her. "Yeah!"

"That's going on my resume!" She added.

Dipper smiled, quite unsure how to take that, but mainly just alarmed and amused that something like THAT would go on a resume. "Uh…" He frowned, and laughed uncertainly. "Seriously? Could I see this resume at some point?"

"Uh… Sure. I guess. I'm still working on it though, so spelling and whatever isn't… Swanky."

"I could check over that if you want."

"That'd be nice."

Dipper realized he had more important business at the moment, while they were still up on this ridge with this great view. He pulled out a map, a marker, a compass, and the radio tracker, and laid them out on the forest floor. And he began to record the lion-bot's progress.

He sat there, writing down numbers and angles from the tracker's needle, for about 5 minutes. At the end, he drew out the results on the map. Based on all this, the robot seemed to be heading in a generally south direction, away from town, away from the valley. Over toward a small cluster of hills in the far distance.

After this, he folded the map back up, put the tools away, and hefted his backpack.

"Okay." He announced.

"Okay." Wendy nodded.

Dipper pointed toward the cluster of hills. "There's our new target."

"Hmm." Wendy squinted up at the sun. "Might want to hold till tomorrow. If we turn back now, it'll be almost dusk by the time we make it back to the shack. And I still have to bike home from there."

"Okay." Dipper nodded. "Man. Yeah. We'll call it a day then. I'm pretty whooped anyway."

"Me too. I think a branch caught me as I jumped off the tree. Gonna have a nasty bruise in the morning."

"Ah. And I… Well. Now I don't have my sock. I'll probably have a blister or something by the time we make it back."

"Awwwww, poow baby…"

They turned away from the view and their new target, and started back down the slope toward town.

After a few minutes of climbing, Dipper spoke up. "What you making a resume for?" He asked. "You looking for work? Or… Like, where you hoping to work?"

"Uh… Oh… You know…" She shrugged. "Work. I don't exactly have a job yet this Summer. I worked weekends over the school year for a fast-food place, but… I don't know. Now they don't need me full-time. I want something a little better for the Summer, right? But I don't really… Know what to do. I think a resume might open up some… Stuff. Right?"

"Yeah, but what job were you hoping for?" He clarified. "Like if you wanted to give a rocking resume to one person, who would it be?"

"Uh…" She turned her attention back to the hike for a moment, and descended the slope by a few tricky steps. "I've been thinking, and I think maybe it would be nice to be a cop. What do you think?"

"A cop?" Dipper blinked, a question suddenly burning in his mind. "Have, uh… You HAVE met the cops around here…"

"Yeah."

"Oh, I'm sure you would fit right in." Dipper grinned sarcastically.

"But that's just it, isn't it?" She asked. "These idiots, these BUFFOONS, need all the help they can get. Maybe if they let me… Shuffle paperwork. Or be secretary. Or ride along on patrols, I could actually help them be a little better at their job. Then people would actually be SAFE… Instead of… You know… Now people have to put caps back on the fire hydrants the cops turn into sprinklers, and everybody has to worry about not being zapped for mentioning our mutual friend…"

"So… You take the fall. You have to work with... Those guys. And you have to do a job with tons of boring paperwork… And you work extra hard to pick up the slack… All just to make people safer."

"It's not a great plan." Wendy mumbled. "And… It probably doesn't have much of a future. And I'd probably hate it, and I don't really want to do it, but… If I could get that job, it might… Be best? I don't know."

"Wendy." Dipper said. "I'm not positive, but I think that makes you a hero."

"Oh." She frowned. "Uh. Yeah… Yeah. I know."

* * *

Illustration for this chapter (replace spaces with periods):

www deviantart com/codylabs/art/FOD-Chapter-3-752769093


	4. Share an Adventure

"You can't sleep?" Mabel asked.

"Uh?" Dipper looked up from the book and looked across the dark room toward his sister's bed. He blinked heavily a few times. "Uh… No, I can sleep. I sleep almost every night. I'm fully capable of sleep."

"You must be super tired if you thought that's what I meant. I mean why _aren't_ you sleeping? Duh!"

"Oh, uh… I'm researching." What book was he reading again? He turned it over and read the title. "Uh, I'm researching robot stuff." He said. "Trying to get ideas of where the mother went, or what the… Thing… You know."

"What thing?"

"Like…" He scratched his head. "Like, so, there's at least a few robots living way out in the forest. We know there are. What do they eat, then? There's no metal out there. And where do they get power?"

"The sun, dork!" Mabel said. "Juan has solar panel things in his tail. Haven't you seen him 'basking'?"

"No…" Dipper pointed to the book. "Solar panels give out, like, hardly any energy at all. They're green, and renewable and everything, but they don't give a lot of output. Like, this book here? It's about living off the grid. And it turns out, if you cover your whole roof in solar panels, it can just barely keep your house going. And that's just for the furnace, lights, refrigerators and toasters. Imagine if the house was _running around_ and using _buzzsaws_? I'm looking at it, and there's no _way_ Juan's puny little solar panels could keep him running. Even if he kept them open all the time. Which he doesn't. He would need MASSIVE solar panels!"

"Well… Yeah. He does stab his little hooks into our wall outlets a lot."

"Exactly." Dipper said. "So I'm thinking his panels are more like his emergency reserves, for if he's all alone or stranded. In the 'wild', or whatever it is, he would need some greater source of power… Something more than the sun. Something like our outlets. A dedicated energy source to feed on. But what?"

"This is boring." Mabel reasoned.

"Bleeeh." Dipper turned back to the book. "I need…" He yawned. "I need to study. I need to know what to expect out there tomorrow. Wendy's coming over at 10-ish, we're gonna make plans, and leave no later than 11. I need to be ready."

"Are you sure that's why you can't sleep?"

"Wait… What? What do you mean?" He wasn't feigning ignorance. He literally had no idea what she was talking about.

"Come on, you know what I mean! You're barely paying attention to that book. You're staring off into space. What are you thinking about?"

"What? I am reading this book." He argued. "I'm thinking about robot animals. Go to sleep. And let me read it."

"Is it a _girl_? Are you thinking about a _girl_?"

 _Oh. Is THAT what this was about? There's a robot lion running around, it's better armed than Manly Dan's whole logging crew combined, it's looking for its cub, they're in possession of that cub, and Mabel was talking about romance?_

"Go away." He reasoned.

" _WHICH GIRL._ " Mabel demanded, in a deafening whisper.

"Go away." He repeated.

"I know you like the back of my hand…" Mabel whispered. "I know you like the bottom of my own tongue. I know you like I know Waddles… And I knooooooow aaaaaaall yoooooooour seeeeecreeeet thoooooooouuuuughts…"

"I can see you have nothing constructive to say." Dipper buried his nose in the book and decided to ignore her. "Now go to sleep immediately, or face my wrath."

Mabel's smile disappeared. "You wouldn't." She said.

He glanced up at her. "I would."

"You wouldn't!"

"I would."

"We had a truce!"

Dipper smiled maliciously, turned back to the book, cleared his throat, and unleashed his wrath. " _Silicon is capable of this because the electrons in the crystal are released from bonds when exposed to light, instead of merely oscillating in place to produce heat. The silicon converts a significant portion of the light energy into electricity—"_

"Don't!" Mabel said.

Dipper continued mercilessly. " _Although it becomes prohibitively expensive at useful scales because larger crystals are difficult to grow. Newer solar technology uses smaller, cheaper crystals, such as copper-indium-gallium-selenide—_ "

"PLEASE!" Mabel begged.

Dipper pressed harder. " _Which can be economically shaped into flexible films. This more convenient technology is less efficient at producing energy than traditional silicon crystals, with an industry standard coefficient of—_ "

"Okay!" Mabel covered her ears with her pillow, and turned over. "You win! I'll go to sleep and I'll stop teasing you about how you're going on a date with Pacifica but you actually still like Wendy but you'd never admit it because you're still so awkward and nervous…!"

" _The US Department of Energy has recently issued the mandate that—_ " Dipper threatened.

"Okay! Okay!" Mabel turned over and began snoring loudly.

Dipper stared at her for a minute. "Ugh." He shook his head, rubbed his eyes, and continued reading.

* * *

He slept until 10 the next morning, and woke up with the book still open on his chest and his reading light still on. Sun was streaming in through the windows and Mabel was nowhere to be seen.

He picked up his shorts and vest where he'd tossed them the previous night, and put them on over his same red shirt. Then he remembered the conversation he had yesterday concerning his laundry habits, and swapped his shorts out for longer jeans on a whim. Now that the bare minimum of his hygienic duties had been fulfilled, he could focus on what was actually important: robots, radio signals, science, magic, mystery, and, of course, the excursion they had planned for later.

He was down the stairs in a number of seconds.

"Hey Soos!" he said, pulling out a map of some old logging roads. "Do you think you could give Wendy, Mabel and I a lift in your truck? We need to get… Here!" He pointed to the cluster of hills he'd marked yesterday.

"Uh…" Soos squinted at the map. "Uh… There's no roads there, dude."

"I know, but see this one road? It gets up within about 4 miles of the place. If you drop us off there, it would be a way shorter hike."

"Uh…" Soos straightened up. "Uh… I don't know dude. There's gonna be… Like… Some tourists stopping in today. And it's my job to…" He gestured to the suit and fez he was wearing, and spread his arms grandly. "BEDAZZLE, BEWILDER, ENCHANT AND ENSOOS THEM! Just like Stan used to do! I've gotten pretty good at it, and it's my solemn duty now! I cannot forsake it!"

"Uh… Okay. It's fine. Hey great uncle Ford!" He shouted across the house. "Could you give us a lift to the South-Eastern mountains? We're going to look for killer robots, and we could sure use some backup!"

"Uh…" Ford hollered back. "I've got… Things… To do. Important things. I'll be busy at Crash Site Omega for a few days."

"Grunkle Stan!" Dipper hollered.

"I'll be with him!" Stan replied.

"Okay!"

"Hey dude." Dipper jumped at the sound of Wendy's voice right behind him. She was already in the house, holding her backpack, a magnet gun, and several articles of strange, bright-orange clothing. "Don't worry about it, dude. I arranged us some transportation."

"Woah! Uh… Hi Wendy!" He said. "I… Uh… I didn't hear you come in."

"I have my ways of slipping about…" She shrugged mysteriously. "Anyway, I brought us some great new gear. Check it out!"

She tossed all the strange clothes to the floor. Each one looked like the front half of a pair of pants, with straps to keep it from falling off. Dipper picked up a pair. "What _are_ these?" He asked.

"Yeah, okay. Storytime: I was talking to my dad about this over breakfast this morning." She said. "About how we were worried about getting rekt by robot saw lions. And he thought a real hard time, then he went off to his closet, and he came back with these. They're called logging chaps. A.k.a. chainsaw chaps."

"What do they do?"

"They're like special armor, to keep you from cutting your legs off. All lumberjacks wear them, whenever they're using chainsaws. Basically, if the blade touches the chap, it cuts right through, and rips out a big chunk. But the inside of the chap is made of all these super-strong, super-tangley fibers. So when the saw touches it, all those fibers get sucked into the mechanisms, and it jams everything instantly. Never even makes it to your leg."

"Oh." Dipper lit up. "Do they really work?"

"Yeah!" Wendy said. "You can look up a video online; they work GREAT! My dad's even _seen_ them work."

"Awesome!"

"Now, these things are meant to go on your legs, but we can just put them over our arms and back, like this…" She tied the chaps' belt across her chest, tied the thigh straps around her shoulders, and tied its ankles to her wrists. "Now our entire upper bodies are invulnerable during a fight! If one of those ladies comes to maul us, we just raise our arm, block it, and ta-da! She gets a mouthful of living hell."

"Sweet! But… Even if we stop the saws, she's still a metal lion with claws and hooks and stuff…"

"Yeah. That's why we don't _ever_ want to have to use the chaps." Wendy got serious. "We be extra, super careful _not_ to get in close. Yeah?"

"Yeah." Dipper organized this in his head. Finally, he began reciting a list. "Okay. Plan A: Stay out of sight. If we get spotted, plan B: Run like cowards. If we get run down, plan C: Stop it with the chaps. If it keeps fighting, plan D: Fry its brain with a magnet pulse."

"Good plan." Wendy said. "Good list. Good list of plans. Speaking of which, though, my magnet gun is still missing a certain something…?"

"Oh yeah!" Dipper pulled a magnetic armature out of his pocket and handed it to Wendy. "Yeah, I asked Ford. He had a spare."

"All right." She loaded the part into her gun, and screwed the side closed again. "I guess we're ready to go then. Where's Mabel?"

"WAITING FOR HER CUE!" Mabel appeared at the top of the stairs, wearing a backpack and some boots. She slid noisily down the banister, finally landing directly between Dipper and Wendy.

Juan was perched on her head, looking proud of himself.

"Mabel." Dipper said. "Don't put Juan on your head."

"But why? I'm Aunt Mabel! He won't saw me!"

"Because. Now your hair is all tangled up in his treads."

"No it's not… See?" Mabel tried to remove Juan from her head. "Ow. OW! My hair's all tangled up in his treads!" She observed.

Ford stepped up to the group and gently interrupted. "Ahem. Might I suggest not taking Juan along today?"

"Why not?" Wendy asked. "We want to find his mother and return him. Therefore…"

"But he's still sending out his SOS signal!" Ford reminded them. "That means, to his mother, his predatory robot lion mother, he stands out like a blinking red light. Need I remind you that yesterday, she tracked down your decoy signal in under an hour. And after that, you only survived because she couldn't sense you. If you want my advice (and I've been dealing with dangerous bizarre things for nigh on 40 years now), I'd say go out today completely stealth. No Juan, no walkie-talkies, no phones, no electronics if you can help it. Nothing that could emit a signal she could sense. Find her, find where she lives, but DON'T. DRAW. ATTENTION. We don't want to bring Juan to her until we have a perfect, foolproof plan."

"Got it." Dipper said. "No Juan. Stealth mode."

"I'm great at stealth." Mabel whispered loudly.

"Okay." Ford adjusted the color of his jacket, and tightened the laces on his boot. "Just remember." He said. "Be careful. I may not be your parents, but… Well… You probably know what I'm going to say. Try not to die too much."

"We won't die hardly at all." Dipper nodded. His parents would probably kill him if they saw him doing this, wouldn't they?

"My dad's totally chill with it." Wendy assured him. "And I won't die a lick."

"Good… Good…" Ford scratched his head. "I… Uh… Well, I don't know WHAT I'd do if something happened to you… If you have any trouble out there, turn your phones on just briefly and call me. I'll be there… And if you're not back by 8 tonight… I'll rally the gang; Stan, McGucket, Soos if he wants… We'll bring the Calvary."

Dipper nodded.

"Okay." Ford turned and made to leave. "Anyway! Melody says meat pancakes for dinner! Don't tarry!"

"We won't!"

Dipper turned to Mabel. "So." He said. "Are you coming? Can Juan handle himself here?"

"Uh… I don't think he can handle himself." Mabel said. "Did you see what he did to the Roomba?"

"No." Dipper frowned, suddenly worried.

"Neither did we." Mabel sighed. "But now we can't find it."

"Oh, I saw it on the way here." Wendy pointed to the door. "It was half-eaten. He stashed the rest of its body up in a tree to finish later."

"So _that's_ why you were 5 ounces heavier this morning." Mabel shook a finger at Juan. "You little rascal. Okay, I'll stay home then." Mabel smiled. "We can do finger painting again!"

She reached into her backpack, and retrieved a paper. Half of it was covered in colorful fingerprints, laid out in exotic, graceful, evocative shapes. The other half was covered in red tread marks, and torn all to shreds.

"Don't quit your day job, Juan." Dipper said.

"He's _learning_." Mabel scolded. Then she lowered her voice, so as not to let Juan hear. "And I think he has… Unresolved issues with aggression."

"I don't doubt it." Dipper began to turn away. "You have fun with him."

"Oh, yeah." She sharing a private wink with her brother, and jabbed him with her elbow. "And you have fun too… Wink wink!"

"You don't have to say 'wink' when you wink." Dipper observed.

"Yeah. We can both see you winking anyway." Wendy agreed. "And why are you even winking?"

"NOTHING." Dipper answered for her. "Why _are_ youwinkingMabelthatmakesnosense."

Mabel snickered and ran back upstairs, to find some kind of tool to untangle her hair from Juan's treads.

They were interrupted by the deafening sound of a car horn from beyond the open door.

"HEY!" Dipper yelped. "Who the heck is that?"

"Well, that's our ride, of course!" Wendy perked up. "Told you I arranged some transportation."

Outside, they were greeted by a familiar blue van. A pudgy teenager rolled down the window and waved. "HEY Wendy! Oh, and hey! You too man! Been a long time!"

"Thompson!" Dipper smiled, and extended his thumbs. "Good to see ya, man! How's it going? What's new?"

"I'm great! I'm socially accepted since I have a van!" Thompson beamed. "So nothing's really new!"

"Wendy!" A teenage voice called from elsewhere in the van. "Why do you have orange pants on your arms?"

"Hey!" Dipper smiled. "Are the rest of the guys here too?"

"I'm here!" Nate poked up behind Thomson.

"Hi Lee!" Dipper waved.

"And I'm here!" Lee poked up behind Nate.

"Hi Nate!" Dipper waved.

They circled around the van to passenger side, and Wendy opened the front door. "Shotgun, Robbie!" She commanded. "I'm the one who knows where this place is."

Another familiar face grudgingly stood up and moved to the back seat.

As Dipper climbed in beside him, they met each other's eyes. This was his old rival. Robbie Valentino. Robbie was older than him, taller than him, stronger than him, faster than him, had better hair than him, and could actually play musical instruments (well, Dipper could play a sousaphone, but sousaphones weren't cool, so they didn't matter. Guitars were cool. And Robbie could play guitar).

For many of these reasons, Robbie thought he was better than Dipper. And for several reasons that would take too long to go into, Dipper thought he was better than Robbie.

They used to hate each other a little. Maybe a little more than a little.

But all that was just water under the bridge. A year ago. Right?

"How's it going, man?" Dipper asked casually, as he fastened his seatbelt. Thomson put the van in gear, and they pulled out onto the road.

"Oh, totally awesome." Robbie said smoothly, flipping his hair. "My band got this sweet gig lined up in Boring. Tambry's there now, and I'm just hanging out here for a couple days to handle some stuff. How's things been with you?"

"Oh, pretty good. Pretty good. Just a lot of boring stuff in school. Been studying up on cryptids for this summer."

"That sounds totally lame." Robbie informed him.

"Yeah." He admitted. He suddenly noticed that Robbie was missing his 'destiny hoodie', the one that had carried his symbol on the prophesy. "Say, what happened to your old hoodie? The one with the bleeding heart on it?"

"Uh…" Robbie frowned, looking down at his current attire: a hoodie with the weeping skull. "I got a new one. Didn't like that old one."

"Why not?"

Everyone except Dipper and Wendy simultaneously shouted. "NEVER MIND ALL THAT!"

There was silence for several confused seconds.

"Good GRIEF you guys are indoctrinated." Wendy sighed.

"Well…" Thompson squirmed. "It's just good to be safe, right?"

"Bill." Wendy said.

"NEVER MIND ALL THAT!" They all chorused. Thompson grimaced. "I mean… Dude!" He pleaded. "Don't mention that! It's just not safe…"

"Bill." She repeated.

"NEVER MIND ALL THAT, I mean… Hey! Come on, Wendy, don't…"

"Bill."

"NEVER MIND ALL THAT- Dude, please!"

"Bill."

"NEVER MIND ALL THAT!"

"Bill."

"NEVER MIND ALL—"

"So why are you guys here again?" Dipper asked.

"Oh yeah." Robbie reclined into the seat, and checked something on his fingernails. "Wendy called and said you had something fun to do up in the woods. She knew I'd be down."

"Yeah, hey, what's actually up?" Lee asked.

"Yeah, totally, what's going down?" Nate agreed.

"Is it athletic?" Thompson asked. "I hope it's not, but at least you guys will be there with me, right?"

Wendy laughed. "Okay, okay, sorry guys. I just wanted you to all see what we were dealing with before you made a commitment. Long story short: there's monsters. If you want to come on a hike with us to do some science sorta stuff with those monsters, you totally can. If you don't, you can just head back with Thomson."

"I don't want to come!" Thompson said. The van swerved slightly.

"I assumed you wouldn't." Wendy explained. "Thompson, all I need from _you_ is to drop off whoever's going, and then come pick us up later, okay? Like, at 6 or something."

"So what are we even doing?" Robbie asked.

Wendy pulled out her phone and began to play the video from yesterday's encounter. "Got a little pest control problem: check it out, giant robot lions! Boosh!"

There were various alarmed noises from the van's occupants as the video played.

"GEEZ!" Robbie flinched.

"NEVER MIND ALL THAT!" Declared Lee.

"IT'S A GIRL!" Observed Nate.

"OH MY!" The van swerved again. "HOW VIOLENT!"

They calmed down after a bit.

"Woah…" Nate said. "So… How big is that thing?"

"About 3 or 4 meters long." Dipper answered. "Including the tail."

"Which means about 10 feet." Wendy clarified. "Because Americans don't do metric."

"But… Science." He mumbled to himself.

"And…" Lee said. "Uh… What… Are we going to find that thing again today?"

Dipper didn't really want any company today. So he decided to talk it up a little bit. "We ARE going to find this thing." He announced. "We're going to find where it lives, and find out _how_ it lives. We're going to track it down to its home and study it closely. It's a risky sort of thing. If we get caught… We're dead. But this is a huge, ginormous thing for all of science, and credible threat to the town. We need to do this."

"Uh… Science huh?" Nate scratched his arm nervously. "That's cool, I guess… Uh… Could I see that phone?"

Wendy handed it to him. He and Nate watched it carefully for a while.

"Doesn't look like it has any really super dangerous weapons." Lee said.

"UH SAW!" Dipper protested.

"No…" Lee said. "Like, you would expect a killer robot to have lasers and missiles and ion cannons or… Flame throwers or freeze rays or something. But all this thing has are saws."

"You're right." Dipper nodded. "It can't nuke us from a distance. All it can do is sneak up, chase us down, and cut us in half. Rip through our bones like toothpicks. Tear us into human-like chunks. Splatter our blood like paint. Perfectly harmless."

"Uh." Lee said. "Yeah…"

"So are you guys coming or not?" Dipper asked. "We could use the backup out there, but if you're too chicken…"

"I'm chicken!" Thompson admitted shamelessly. "You guys are all chicken too, right? I don't want to drive home alone!"

"I'm…" Nate groaned, hung his head, and met Lee's eyes, looking for support. He finally let his eyes drop to the floor, and admitted. "I'm chicken."

"Then I'm chicken too." Lee groaned. He literally never did anything without Nate.

"We'll all be chicken together!" Thompson said. "I'll turn around at this next intersection."

"No!" Wendy said. "Dipper and I are all still going. We ain't chicken. Robbie? You chicken?"

Robbie frowned helplessly. He looked at the robot in the video. And then he looked at all his friends who'd wimped out. And then he looked at Wendy.

And then he looked at Dipper. His eyes narrowed very slightly, and his mouth twitched.

Dipper recognized that expression. That was the expression that men make when their manly honor is being called into question. He would know; he'd made that expression at Robbie many a time.

"No." Robbie answered. "I ain't chicken. I can handle one old robot. Doesn't even have any guns, yeah?"

Dipper frowned to himself. Dang it! Perhaps such rivalries couldn't be so easily broken. Perhaps today would be more interesting than planned.

Wendy suddenly looked Robbie up and down. When her eyes landed on her feet, she let out a loud sigh. "Robbie." She groaned. "I just have one question for you."

"What?"

"WHAT ARE THOOOOOOOSE?" She pointed to his flip-flops.

"They're… Uh…" His voice got hesitant. "Flip-flops."

"Dude! You can't wear flip-flops in the forest!"

"Why not?"

"They're too flippy!" She explained.

"They're too floppy." Dipper added.

"And!" Wendy added. "If we run into some kind of blackberry vines or poison plant thing, your feet gonna get rekt! What am I wearing? Boots! What's Dipstick wearing? Boots! What are Lee and Nate wearing? Boots! What's Thompson wearing?"

"Flip-flops."

"And he's rocking that look, because he's not coming!"

"But—"

She sighed. "Look, sorry Robbie. I'd love to have ya, but you aren't prepared for this. If we have to run for our lives, you're gonna stub your toe, slip, fall, and then you'll get caught and shredded. And at that point, there's nothing to be done to save you. And since your body would be in pieces then, you wouldn't even make a good zombie! So then your parents would be heartbroken, and I'd have to be the one to explain it."

Robbie growled. He growled a lot. And he hunched back in his seat and folded his arms and put on a very massive frown and began to look very, very goth.

He avoided Dipper's gaze.

Dipper avoided his gaze.

A short time later, the van started back down the hill, leaving Dipper and Wendy alone at the end of a quiet logging road. Dipper pulled out his map, Wendy adjusted her hat, and they started into the trees without a word.

Up above the trees, the day was sunny and cloudless, and the beams of light shone down through the canopy to paint yellow stripes across the trunks of trees. Countless millions of brightly shining green leaves bobbed and twirled in the gentle breeze. It was a beautiful day.

After perhaps half an hour of hiking in silence, Dipper broke the stillness. "Wait, hold on, you told your dad about the robots? And he's actually _okay_ with you going on this crazy stuff?"

"Oh yeah. He said…" She made her voice go all massive and deep, like her dads. "'WELL WENDY, I'M PROUD OF YOU. NO CORDUROY HAS EVER FOUGHT KILLER ROBOTS BEFORE. YOU LEARN ALL YOU ABOUT THOSE PUSSY CATS, AND MAYBE YOU CAN GIVE THE LESSON NEXT WINTER.' I think he let the Timeinator movies get to his head, but he's always been a sucker for this kind of apocalypse-survivor junk anyway."

"Oh yeah… You… Right. You have… Training instead of Christmas."

"Yep. Our grandparents still send us toys and stuff sometimes, but we don't get them for about a week."

"Your dad keeps the toys for a week?"

"No, we spend all winter break living out in the woods, man. Cold. Eating brown meat. Digging bunkers. Hiding our fires. Making tools and weapons out of the environment. Covering our tracks. It's pretty fun once you get into it."

"Wow… You mean you like it?"

"I used to hate it. But then…"

"Then what?"

"You know what."

"Ah."

"Yeah. For 4 days, I stayed alive all alone on nothing but bottled water, cold nachos, stray cats, and paranoia. Heck, you were there! You know what it's like… And… Sometime after that… After everything calmed down, I finally realized that this town was still full of dangerous crap. It wasn't going away. So I started looking for it, and I got into the good types of trouble. And you know what? Now, not a day goes by now where I'm not glad for what my dad gave me. If I didn't know how to tie knots, pick locks, wrestle, swing an axe, speak Scottish, or make a half-decent I.E.D., chances are I wouldn't _be_ here."

"Wow… That's pretty cool. Wish my dad taught me that stuff, ha ha."

"No, man. You gotta be thankful for what you have. Do your parents love you, and care for you, and pamper you, and throw you birthday parties, and try to make you happy?"

"Uh, yeah…"

"Then that's great. That's awesome. My dad… Okay, so my mom died, okay?"

"Oh… I'm sorry."

"Don't sweat it. So anyway, ever since, my dad's had this pretty hardcore philosophy. He loves us, he loves us a ton, but he doesn't care super much if we're happy. Or if we're angry. Or if we're sad. He shows his love by making us ALIVE, no matter what it takes. Because the way he sees it, a sad or angry family member is better than a dead one anyday. And he doesn't know how to make us happy. But he does know how to teach us to survive anything. So that's what he does. He tries his hardest to uphold the oath he took when mom passed; the oath that said he wouldn't watch another one die."

"Wow."

"Yeah. So… There's no such thing as perfect parents. And yours do stuff wrong that mine does right, and do stuff right that mine does wrong. Just the way it is."

"Huh...Hey, is your dad all that bad? …Well, I mean… Sorry. I know how that question sounds, but you know how he acts. Is that how he always is?"

"You can just say 'barbaric and thuggish'. I know what you mean. And… Yeah. That's most of him. And that's all of him if you get on his bad side. But if you get on his good side, you stay there forever. As his kids, we were born there. And he loves us a lot. He doesn't always show it, but… Naw. He's not always that bad. I love him."

Dipper popped the question. "Uh… Am _I_ on his good side…?"

"As of our breakfast this morning, you're the 'LESS GIRLY ONE'. Take that how you will."

"Ah. So…"

Wendy suddenly stopped him. "Dude!" She pointed to the forest floor. "Check it out!"

"Huh." Dipper blinked. "Did somebody drive a quad bike through here?"

"No, man, these are the track we've been tracking! From the lion's tracks!"

"Oh yeah!" Dipper smacked his forehead. "Yeah! Ugh. Right. Duh."

"OOOOH yes! We're on the trail now!" Wendy turned and followed them. "Let's track some track tracks, man!"

They were getting deep into the forest now. The last roads, and with them the old logging areas, had been left far behind. No more civilization out here. No trails. This part of the woods was inhabited solely by deer, bears, Sasquatches, gnomes, fairies, and killer robot lions. Even Dipper had never been out this far.

They were getting near the place he'd marked on the map. The place where they'd seen the robot lion headed yesterday. Dipper put the map away, and began to look around. Wendy still followed the tracks.

Somewhere far away, a woodpecker tapped on a tree. Dipper frowned, and turned an ear to listen. It tapped again. Something about it sounded off. He'd heard a lot of woodpeckers in his life, and he was quite sure that this one was tapping much too fast. Faster than should be possible. Harder than a soft body could ever tap.

Dipper looked around. _A robot woodpecker_? He didn't see anything. The forest looked largely the same as the one they were familiar with. The trees were a slightly different type here, with slightly darker green branches, slightly greyer trunks, and leaves that were shaped just a little different. But other than this slight change in species, nothing seemed obviously off…

"Hey. This part of the forest seems pretty sharp." Wendy remarked.

"Yeah, I guess, uh… Wait, what do you mean?" Dipper reached up to brush a branch aside.

"I mean stop walking. RIGHT. NOW. I mean DIPPER! FREEZE!"

Dipper froze instantly.

And then he followed her gaze up toward the branch in his way. The branch he'd been about to touch. Wendy was right; it _was_ sharp. Razor sharp. He reached a finger forward, and poked the end of one leaf. It drew a drop of blood.

He bent over and peered very closely at the leaf. Good grief, they weren't leaves! They were solar panels! Incredibly thin solar panels, held together by a metal latticework! The stems of the leaves were tiny steel cables! His eyes traveled up the branch to the tree. Now that he looked at it closely, the entire tree was built similarly! It was all made of metal!

And all these trees. All these trees were the same type of tree. They were all metal.

The woodpecker sounded again, the sound of its beak like the drilling of a tool.

And something moved through the bushes to their right, and as it moved it made a buzzing sound.

The leaves of the bushes made a scraping sound as the wind rubbed them together.

And the grass was hard beneath their feet.

A smile slowly spread across the faces of the two teens.

"We found it." Dipper whispered.

* * *

Illustration for this chapter (replace spaces with periods):

www deviantart com/codylabs/art/FOD-Chapter-4-752653122

It's Mabel. This chapter's picture is a picture of Mabel.


	5. The Forest of Daggers

Mabel shone the beam from the laser pointer all around the floor. Juan chased it to and fro joyously, his saws scuffing up the floorboards whenever he thought he'd caught it. Always it eluded him, always it escaped him, always he gave chase. He was just like a cat. A heavy metal cat, but nonetheless just as smart, playful, energetic and eager. Mabel laughed at his antics.

When he finally got tired, Mabel turned the laser off, and sat down next to a wall outlet. Juan crawled up on her chest, and stuck his hooks into the socket beside her. A few sparks fizzled, and the robot relaxed.

Mabel petted him. He wasn't quite as fun to pet as normal animals, since he wasn't soft or furry in the least. But he was warm, and he was active and squirmy, and if she closed her eyes she could aaaaalmost imagine he was something nice to cuddle.

He finished recharging, and curled up in her lap. She petted his antennae, and they extended and retracted at her touch. His red eyes looked up and met hers, and for a moment, she felt they shared a deep, spiritual bond.

His claws plucked at her sweater as he stretched, and aperture-like eyelids twisted shut over his cameras. He wiggled around one more time to get comfortable, and then he was asleep.

Such a sweet thing.

Too bad she couldn't talk to him. He spoke and heard in radio signals, and since she hadn't figured out how to do that with her own body, she had to speak with the walkie talkie. She would listen in on his 'distress signal', and add words of her own onto the same frequency. She hoped he could hear her, and she hoped he understood that she was just trying to be friendly.

She pulled out her walkie talkie again now, and turned it over to his usual frequency.

But for some reason, the line was quiet. She cycled through all the other channels, but those were all quiet too. Mable frowned at the robot, and the realization slowly dawned on her.

Sometime in the last hour, Juan had stopped sending out his S.O.S.

 _He thinks I'm his mommy._

 _He's happy here._

 _He loves me._

But it broke her heart. And she put her hands to her head, and her heart began to race, because another realization was close behind the first.

 _He doesn't want his real mom anymore._

 _His real mom is looking for him, but now she'll never find him._

 _I'm his mom now._

"Oh no…" She told the creature. "No… I can't do that… I can't keep you… This isn't right for you… _I'm_ not right for you… This…" She shook her head, and brushed aside a tear. "This was never what I wanted…"

* * *

Meanwhile, ten miles away, Dipper and Wendy ventured deeper into a hidden valley. And as they did so, they realized they'd stepped into a different world entirely.

"Okaaaay." Wendy nodded. "We can tell them apart, at least. The trunks here aren't bark-colored brown. They're more like rust-colored brown. And the newer, smaller branches are totally grey."

"Probably _is_ rust. The newer shoots just haven't had time to rust."

"And, of course." She added. "If we're ever unsure, we can always just touch the leaves. If they feel like leaves, you're good. But if they lay you open, chances are they belong to the robot trees."

"Ha ha. Yeah." Dipper laughed nervously. "Robot trees." He echoed. He looked around him again, just to make sure he wasn't mistaken. But he wasn't. Before today, he never would have imagined using the words 'robot' and 'tree' in the same sentence, but there you have it. Those words had passed his lips. And as ridiculous at it sounded, it was nonetheless true. "Robot trees." He repeated, and liked the sound of it. "I guess this is a thing now."

"Man, you can smell it!" Wendy commented on the air. "Like oil, or the school's metal shop after somebody's been grinding… It's not normal."

"Yeah… Wow."

"So how do we do this whole 'science' thing?" She asked, dragging them back to the mission. "I mean, we could just walk around, but shouldn't we be doing… 'Experiments' or some junk?"

"Uh… I dunno…" Dipper bent over to examine a smallish sort of weed. "I guess we take pictures and stuff… And cram as many samples as we can into our backpacks."

"Sounds good…" Wendy slipped on some gloves, grasped a tuft of grass, and pulled. And then she pulled some more. And then pulled some more. "Oh, okay, want to play it like that, do ya?" She grumbled at the plant. She pulled out an axe, and chopped it into the roots beneath her hand. The tuft finally came out with a snap. She shoved the plant into her backpack.

Dipper peered down at the hole where the grass had been. He poked his finger inside.

A tiny spark of electricity arced between his roots, directly through his finger. He yelped with pain, and brought back his hand.

"You okay? What got ya?"

"Oh, these… The roots zapped me. It must have its power cells down below ground. The panels charge up sun during the day, the batteries power it at night…"

"Wear gloves mate."

"Yeah."

This time he wasn't zapped, and he brought out a handful of soil.

"Dirt?" Wendy frowned curiously.

"Soil." He clarified, and he dumped the sample into a plastic bag. "Metal plants are growing out of this soil. That… Doesn't happen. Ever. And that means this soil must be special."

"Fair enough."

He pulled out a disposable camera. Ford had suggested no electronics, but this model was so simple that it wouldn't count. Nothing could detect this bad boy. Dipper took pictures of Wendy's sample, his sample, and the hole they'd removed it from. Then they moved on.

Careful to dodge the leaves, they made their way up to the trunk of one of the larger trees. Wendy began tapping lightly on the surface with the back of her axe, looking for irregularities or hollow spots. The metallic clanking echoed through the silent forest.

Dipper was hit by a sudden sense of deja-vu, as he remembered his very first adventure in Gravity Falls. He'd found Ford's hollow, fake metal tree, and a mechanism inside had opened the way to the journal. It was the thing that started it all. The one event that made the way for his entire life since. He took a minute to reflect. He… Or rather _they_ … Had come so far since then. So very far. They knew so much, had done so much, conquered so much, become so much… It was amazing.

"Hey, this part sounds hollow." Wendy remarked, and tapped again.

"Cool…" Dipper nodded. "Wonder what's in there… Do we have a way to cut through?"

"Well… The trunk looks like it has a sort of grain to it, like regular wood. Maybe an axe will work?"

She took a swing at it, and made an impressively loud sound.

The axe didn't work.

There was a dent in the tree, but there was also a dent in the axe.

"Awe…" She ran her finger along the defaced blade. Suddenly she laughed. "Look at me! I'm a scientist! Whacking a metal thing!"

Dipper laughed too. "Who's the greater scientist? The scientist who whacks, or the scientist who watches whack?"

She groaned in mock-misery. "Waaaah… Why does science feel so much like the chain gang?" She struck the tree once more.

Then they heard movement inside the hollow spot, and took a step back. Something was alive in there. They could hear it scuttling around, clacking against the inside of the tree. Then the sound moved upwards through the trunk. Their eyes followed it up, and landed on a small hole, about 10 feet up. A tiny robot peeked its head out of this hole, and looked down at them with red eyes. It had a vaguely similar design to Juan, but with several different specializations. It was thinner than Juan, and longer, as if for fitting through tight spaces. And instead of buzzsaws, it had a system of small drill bits, which it spun at them in an angry, threatening sort of way.

"Guess we know what the hollow spot was." Wendy observed.

"Robot squirrel." Dipper smiled. He held up his camera and took another shot. "Cool."

Irritated by the flash, the robot climbed out of its hole and up the tree away from them. It had long hooks on the ends of its legs, and a small sort of hollow cone where a tail would be.

As they watched, this cone began to emit a loud wining sound. Dust began to spray and billow around the animal. Then it let go of the tree, and hovered through the air off toward another tree. It grabbed onto a branch of the new tree, pulled itself up into a better position, and looked back at them.

"Robot _rocket_ squirrel." Wendy noted as Dipper snapped another picture.

"Just _too_ cool." He nodded.

They continued on.

"Hey, have you seen any other tracks recently? Any sign of the lion?"

"Naw, man. I can't track anything here. Can't make heads or tails of this grass, and all the tree roots just cover the mud and dirt."

"All right."

"Are you picking up any radio signals? Like Juan makes? Or from the decoy we put on her yesterday?"

"No, nothing from the decoy." He said. "The tracker we put on her stopped transmitting sometime last night. I guess she found a way to get it off."

"Dang it… Well, any signals at all?"

"Uh…" He turned on his walkie talkie briefly. It became to click and whistle with noise. There were hundreds of signals around here. All of them weak, quiet and brief. Like the chirping of crickets, or the singing of birds. Dipper realized this forest wasn't silent. It was filled with life, but all of it was silent to human ears. He turned the device back off, and returned it to his vest. "Yeah. None as loud as Juan, but… Yeah. They're there. And they're everywhere. But they're all so quiet that they're undetectable from far away. Probably why we never detected this place before."

"Huh. Say!" Wendy pointed ahead. "What's that up there?"

She gestured toward a nearby stream. Bright, bulbous white flowers were growing all along its banks, some of them the height of trees.

"Woah. Giant flowers."

"That's science, right?"

"Yeah…" He approached the nearest one, and circled it slowly. Nothing much to see… But this plant didn't have any leaves; no solar panels. All the other trees had solar panels. How was this one getting its energy?

He looked inside the bulb of the flower, and slowly put it together. Although they wide pedals were white on the outside, they were extremely shiny on the inside, like so many separate sections of a bowl-shaped mirror. And each one shared the exact same shape: that of a geometrically perfect paraboloid. And in the exact center of each 'dish', there was a tiny metal bud, attached to the wider stalk by what looked like tubes.

"Solar thermoelectric power." Dipper nodded.

"A what now?" Wendy frowned.

"Instead of using plain old solar panels, like the trees do, these plants use the flowers." Dipper explained. "The flowers are giant mirror dishes, and concentrate sunlight into those little buds. Those buds must have steam turbines or something inside them. The sunlight is all focused into the bud, that boils the steam, the steam spins the turbines, the turbines generate power, and that's what powers the plant."

"Woooooah…" Wendy scratched her head. "So 'flower power' is a real thing… I always thought those stupid hippies were insane…"

"Solar collection is actually much more efficient that normal photovoltaic systems." Dipper continued. "It's not used much in the human world because it's so expensive to build, but these things just grow that way, so I guess expense isn't an issue… And that's probably why they only grow so near the creek. They pump up the water to refuel their turbines and dispose of waste heat."

Wendy considered this.

"Is that why you were so tired this morning?"

"What?"

"You stayed up super late studying weird science."

"Uh… Yeah. Why?"

"Okay… Hey wait a minute, _why the heck_ were you studying thermoelectric solar power anyway? That's such a randomly specific thing…"

"Well… I figured that these things would have to live without fuel, so I just started researching self-sustaining power, and clean energy… Parabolic solar collectors came up at some point so I read about them… And anyway, it came in handy, didn't it?"

Wendy scratched her head. "Of all the millions of people in history who've ever gone out looking for trouble, only two of them have _ever_ happened upon a thermoelectric solar flower. And one of those people just HAPPENED to thoroughly research that same thing the night before."

"It… Seemed prudent."

"Why are you wearing long pants instead of shorts today? As if you knew we would be walking through razor grass."

"Well… You mentioned my… Habits… Yesterday… And it seemed… It seemed like a good idea?"

Wendy seemed suddenly suspicious for some reason.

"Dipper." She asked. "Are you psychic?"

Why was she so suspicious? He went on the defensive. "No…"

"Do you have any psychic friends?"

"Don't think so."

"Is being psychic a thing?"

"Not that I know of…"

"Have you always been this randomly lucky?"

"Definitely not."

"Do you consult oracles?"

"No."

"Do you own a crystal ball?"

"No."

"Does a future-Dipper travel back in time to give you advice?"

"What? No…"

She gave him a hard stare. He frowned back at her, in a confused way. What was she thinking? What did it matter? What was going on? Did she seriously believe whatever that was? Why? Huh?

Then Wendy just smiled and shrugged. "Ah, never mind." She turned back to the flowers. "Flower power. The hippies were right. Whatever we do, we _can't_ tell my dad about this. Got it?"

"Umm… Yeeeeeah… Got it." Dipper yanked one of the smaller stems out of the streambed. It weighted about 3 pounds. Wow. He never thought he'd ever hold a 3-pound flower, but hey, there's a first time for everything. He put it in his backpack. "This sample is Ford's eyes only."

Seeing as how there was less razor-grass in the water, they followed the creek up deeper into the woods. They kept a look out for lion-bot tracks, but nothing was visible.

Before long, a loud roar echoed through the trees. It was like the sound of a massive motor, grinding, tearing, ripping.

"Woah." Wendy said. "Cliché giant monster sound. That might be our girl, huh?"

"She never made noise before… What was that?"

Now there was a new sound, the whizzing of small motors, and the scraping of metal-on-metal. The teens looked up to see several monkey-octopus-robots swing through the treetops above them, moving away from the cliché monster sound. Each one had a spherical torso about the size of a basketball. The torso had an eye on the top, another eye on bottom, and 5 long tentacles around the rim. They were using these tentacles in much the same way that normal monkeys use their arms. (Except, judging by the way they were swinging and flipping, they had very little concept of right-side-up and upside-down.) Dipper thought they looked strikingly like the evil robot from the movie 'The Incredibles' but he kept this to himself, as it would make him seem like a total dork.

One of the monkey-bots stopped to look down at them, and spun one of its claws in their direction. Dipper noticed it had smaller monkey-bots latched onto some recharge sockets between its arms. Nursing babies; Mabel would think that was adorable. The mother seemed to decide they weren't a threat, and followed its companions off into the distance. Dipper took several pictures as they went.

"Good grief, they look just like the robot from 'The Incredibles'." Wendy frowned.

"You're such a dork." He replied.

"And among present company." She retorted. "I need not feel ashamed."

The monster noise sounded again, and they continued to follow it up the creek. They were moving even more carefully now, silent and alert. Eventually the noise was very near, just on the other side of the next thicket. They stopped and hid themselves to prepare. Dipper got his camera ready, Wendy took her axe out, and they both tightened the logging chaps on their arms.

"This could be it." Dipper whispered.

"Don't engage." She reminded him. "Just take pictures. Be ready to run."

"Yeah."

They stepped quickly from behind the thicket. She leveled her weapon, he leveled his camera, and they both came into view of the sound's source. And then they both frowned, disappointed.

An adorable little round robot had been cutting down a small tree. Now it paused in its work, and looked up at them. It had a flat paddle tail, little chubby legs, and a gigantic cutting blade built into the front of its head. The blade slowed down, and the noise died off. It tilted its head at them curiously.

"Aw man…" Wendy groaned. "All that noise! All that noise, and it turned out to just be a chainsaw beaver."

"Come on!" Dipper sighed, taking a picture anyway. "Man, who knew?"

The chainsaw beaver cavorted back toward the creek, and disappeared beneath the water.

"Well." Dipper shrugged, and noticed the tree the beaver had been chewing on. "Hey! At least we can get a picture of the inside of these trees. For science!"

"Yeh science!"

As it turned out, there wasn't much for science to see. The trees had bark on the outside and growth rings in the middle, just like normal trees. The only really different part was all the pipes and wires, but even those weren't all that surprising.

"This is boring." Wendy decided, after Dipper took his 4th picture of the tree's innards. "Let's keep going. Gotta be more to see!"

They left the creek now, and steered into the trees. Toward what seemed like the center of the robot forest.

The trees were getting closer together now, and the grass was getting thicker. All the leaves were still razor sharp, so they proceeded ever more slowly and carefully. Dipper had taken the precaution of wearing long pants today, so his legs were mostly shielded. And the chainsaw chaps kept the worst of it off his arms. But he was still getting pricked and sliced, just a little bit, here and there. On his exposed hands, or through his socks, and even a couple times on his face. It was always just light brushes or pricks, but even that was enough to sting. Sometimes he would stumble or let his arms get clumsy, and a branch would contact his pants or chaps hard enough to pierce through. He would make a face, pull himself free, and soldier on.

Good grief, this was miserable! Dipper felt he was made of paper, walking through a world made of scissors and knives. Dying slowly and surely, just by walking. Once he wiped the sweat off his face, and there was traces of red among the moisture. He looked at Wendy. Her face had some slight damage as well, though he couldn't tell about the rest of her body. Their eyes met, and they silently shared their misery.

This place wasn't a good place.

This place wasn't okay for people to live.

This place wasn't suited for flesh.

Well, it explained one mystery at least: why they hadn't seen any ordinary animals or birds around here. Everything soft that ventured in here carelessly (or without clothes) probably just DIED.

"When we come back tomorrow." Dipper said. "We need football pads and helmets. And bigger boots."

"We need something more like knight armor." She agreed.

"And a diamond-tipped weed-eater."

"Or a tank."

"Or one of McGucket's robots."

Wendy thought about this. "Say." She said. "Are we seriously coming back tomorrow?"

"Uh…"

" _You_ have a hot date tomorrow, and _I_ just need a day to rest and… You know, take a bath! Don't want to go through _this_ two days in a row…" She rolled back the chaps to show him the scratches and cuts on her arms. "Plus, dad wants me looking for a job and stuff…"

"Oh yeah… Yeah…" Dipper remembered his date. "I guess I probably shouldn't show up to some fancy dinner looking like I got ambushed by a pencil sharpener…"

"Pacifica would NOT appreciate that." Agreed Wendy.

"No, she would NOT." Dipper glanced around. "Say, speaking of eating, you want to take a break somewhere?" Dipper asked. "Have some lunch?"

"Ugh." Wendy nodded, and stopped walking. "Yeah actaully. I just need to sit down."

They found a hollow trunk from some massive fallen tree, and Dipper ducked inside. Apparently, small animals or micro-organisms in this ecosystem found the inside easier to eat than the outside. Although the outer crust and bark was mostly intact, the inside had been cut completely away. A few small robot bugs scampered away as he crawled deeper.

The metal wasn't particularly smooth, but it was sure better than the grass outside, so he got himself comfortable in the narrow space. Wendy ducked in after him, and took off her backpack. Dipper took off his hat and chainsaw chaps, and wiped his face with his shirt. All his tiny cuts stung as he did so, and he remembered not to wipe again. Now he removed a map and a sandwich from his pack, and leaned back against the metal to chew thoughtfully and inspect the map.

Wendy peaked over his shoulder at the map.

"We're somewhere around here, right?" She pointed to some contours in the southeast.

"Yeah." He made a small black mark at his best guess. "And the robot forest is… Well, we crossed in somewhere about here: the northwest border…" He drew a short line.

"Oh wow. We haven't come very far have we? Maybe a half mile. How big is this forest anyway?"

"I'm not sure how far it extends south and east, but it can't be much more than about 20 miles wide and 50 miles long, since there's a highway over here, and the cliffs over here, and there's hiking trails all along the cliffs…"

"Yeah…" Wendy nodded. "I'm thinking this place has to be pretty small, y'know, since nobody's ever noticed it before. A couple miles at most."

"Yeah, or very _new_ …" Dipper began to chew his pencil. "Say, what if something _we_ did caused the creation of this place? What if we… Released it from somewhere, somehow? What if it came in through Bill's rift, or…"

"I doubt it. It doesn't look new." Wendy shrugged. "Some of these trees are dead, some of them have all fallen over, like this one, and… And most of these trees are gigantic! Just like the normal forest. How many growth rings did we see in that tree the beaver was sawing on?"

"Uh… 16, I think…"

"Yeah." She said. "And that was a really small tree. So, assuming growth rings here mean the same thing they do in the normal forest, that means this place has to be a couple hundred years old at least… Right? Before the white man settled here, for sure…"

Dipper nodded, slowly, and chewed his pencil even harder.

"What if they're not robot trees?" He asked. "What if they're just normal trees… And normal mountain lions, squirrels, monkeys, and beavers, for that matter? What if there's some virus that turns things into robots?!"

Wendy's eyes got wide. "Dude… We'd be infected then!"

"Oh dang!" Dipper looked at his hands, rolled up his sleeves, and blinked his eyes. Everything _seemed_ normal… He stuck out his tongue. "Weny! Iz ma tug a saw yeh?"

She looked. "No. Not a saw yet. Show me your feet." He took off his right shoe. "No." She reassured him. "Not a tank track yet… Maybe it takes a while… Or starts on the inside and works its way out… Maybe you have a robot liver by now? How would we check?"

Dipper put his shoe back on. And then he put some serious thought into the virus theory. "No." He finally answered, after a minute or two. "That can't be it… A conversion virus doesn't make sense…"

"Why not? There's been weirder things."

"Because… Because the creatures here are all made of straight-up metal." He tapped the tree trunk next to his head, and the resounding clang proved his point. "But normal living bodies don't have any metal in them, not more than a few grams at least… So we'd have to start eating metal, gorging on it, if we wanted to transform our bodies into that. And then, the only way we could actually chew or digest that metal is if we _already had_ a body like that… So… So the conversion process can't happen. It's a chicken-and-egg sort of thing."

Wendy thought about this. "So… I guess that begs another question: where'd all THIS metal come from anyway?" She asked. "This forest is made of metal, but where did it come from originally? There's not that much metal in the ground, there's just rock…"

"A lot of rock is actually aluminum by weight…"

"Really?"

"Yeah…"

"Well… You've held Juan, and those plants. They're heavier than aluminum. Gotta be partially steel, at least."

"Yeah…" Dipper scratched his head, and turned back to the map.

"Hey, what's that big circle?" Wendy leaned over and pointed to a mile-wide disk he'd drawn on the map, centered around the hill above the town. "That's the Weirdmageddon radius, isn't it?"

"The Weirdmageddon radius was a little bigger. That's actually…" He suddenly hesitated. That circle was the giant, buried alien spaceship. But should he tell her about that? Ford had definitely told him to keep it a close and guarded secret from anyone outside the inner circle… But then again, who would he ever trust more than Wendy? She would probably run across it on her own eventually… Right? It would be safest and best to tell her all about it up front…

That was when Dipper got a new idea: he _wouldn't_ tell Wendy about the UFO. He would _show_ her. One of these days, he would show it.

But for now, he still had to tell her what the circle was. "That's uh…" He decided on a half-truth. "That's the epicenter." He said. "The focal point of weirdness in Gravity Falls. Ford's been studying the 'weirdness magnetism effect' of this place, and as it turns out, this place exerts a pull on anything unusual. Sometimes it manifests as a psychological pull, which is how six-fingered Ford and I guess Trembley found it. Sometimes it manifests as a literal magnetic force, as it was for ethereal beings like Bill and his goonies. And sometimes it's just quantum probability. For instance, gnomes could theoretically live anywhere. But they're very improbable, which makes them very probable to be here. And brain-switching carpets? Or eye bats? Those things _probably_ don't exist. So when they _do_ exist, they _probably_ exist here."

"That probably makes sense." Wendy joked. "And that circle is where it's strongest?"

"Yeah."

"Man. The town's right on the edge of it."

"Hence why we get mermaids, living video games, and ghosts popping up underfoot all the time."

"Makes sense… Makes sense…" She turned back to her backpack, and began removing her lunch.

Dipper looked back at the map, and his eyes caught on the ship

Could the crashed UFO have anything to do with this robot forest?

It didn't seem like it could. The forest didn't start until about 12 miles south of the crash site's furthest radius… If this _was_ aliens, it would have to be a separate crash entirely…

Worth an investigation, anyway.

Wendy extended her hand with some food in it.

"Bacon?" She offered.

"Oh yeah! I could go for some bacon right now…" Dipper took a piece from her.

"Smoked sausage?"

"Oh… Sure."

"How about some jerky?"

"Um… Did your dad pack you this lunch, by any chance?"

"What makes you say that?" She asked.

"Oh you know… It's just your dad's sort of… Style. I mean, meaty, high-protein everything… And this." Dipper held up the package of jerky, with its ultra-manly mascot, and its 'YOU'RE INADEQUATE' slogan. "I haven't seen anything less than a manotaur try to chew _this_ brand."

"It sure takes a mighty resolve, doesn't it? Well, surprise! _I_ packed this lunch! That's just the Corduroy style, mate! Gotta keep your energy up, and keep your jaws strong." She ripped open the bag of jerky, removed a stick, and tore off of a piece with her teeth. "And hey." She continued with her mouth full. "Don't be intimidated by a little bag of jerky, dude. I bet you can chew it. Take some."

Her encouragement suddenly made Dipper feel very motivated to chew it. He took some from Wendy, bit off a huge piece, and he chewed it.

And he kept chewing it.

And he kept chewing it.

A minute later, he paused briefly, frowned, and kept chewing it.

And he kept chewing it.

About 5 minutes later, it was finally chewed, and he swallowed.

He rubbed his jaw, and stared down at the rest of the jerky. "I don't… I don't really want to do that again." He decided out loud.

"Hmm." She snickered. "5 minutes. Not bad."

"'Not bad'…? What's 'good', then?"

"I can chew it in 2 minutes. My brothers are between 3 and 6. My dad can do 45 seconds. I saw a manotaur do it in 5 seconds once, but I think he mostly swallowed it whole, and that's totally cheating."

"Oh totally. Those guys are bogus." Dipper rubbed his jaw again. "So… I ate the jerky. Does that… Prove I'm manly, then?"

"Eh." She shrugged. "There's better ways to measure manliness. Mayor Tyler, for instance, can giiiit, giiiit that jerky in about 4 minutes, and he ain't no man. So…"

"What's a better metric?" Dipper perked up. "Wrestling bears…? Jumping over cliffs…? Plunging your fist into holes filled with pain…?" (He had done all these things at some point, and thought he'd done all right.)

"Uh…" She frowned, and scratched her head. "That third one is super random, but yeah… That's kind of the stuff my dad uses… But I've got another little method. A little more… Personal. You wanna try?"

"Okay!"

"Awesome. Do you have a spider phobia or anything?"

"Uh… Well, no not really… I mean kinda. Not as bad as some people, but I'm not a huge fan of spiders anyway…"

"Awesome!" She smiled. "Well then, if you wanna prove your manliness, would you go ahead and describe what you see?"

She turned around. When he saw what was on her back, Dipper gave a scream nothing short of girly. "AHH! UH. Yeah! Spiders!"

"Describe them."

"Uh… There's about, like, 7 maybe. They're all about 4 inches across. They… Ooooh… Wow. They're pretty spiky and… Wow. They've got drills and everything. You know what, until today, I wouldn't have honestly believed that robots could look quite that scary."

"Good to know." She nodded, and began to hold perfectly still. "Now would you do me a solid and pick them off for me?"

"UHH?"

"Come on, I can't see back there." She hissed. "Grab them and pull them off. Be a man, man."

"I'm not sure…"

"And they're sharp little legs are starting to get on my nerves."

"Uhh…"

"Literally on my nerves. As in past my skin, and down to my nerves. Come on man, you got this."

Dipper summoned up every ounce of manly courage he had in his reserves, reached forward, and gripped one of the spiders by the thorax. It panicked, waved its drill around threateningly, and began to grip into Wendy's skin with its legs.

"OW." Wendy grimaced.

"Sorry!" Dipper stuttered. "Uh… I don't want to hurt you…"

Wendy's cool demeanor broke, just for a second. "Just yank it, wimp!"

He yanked it, hard.

It didn't yank.

Instead, it dug in further. The skin on Wendy's back stretched up in eight points as Dipper pulled, and each point began to bleed badly.

"OW!" She screeched, and doubled over in pain. Tears came to her eyes.

"UH!" As his heart thundered out of control, Dipper let go of the spider, and turned to his backpack. "SCREW MANLINESS! THIS IS GETTING DUMB!" He said, and pulled out the magnet gun. He flipped it to pulse. "Hold still!"

The gun hummed, and the spiders all convulsed violently. Their red eyes stopped glowing, their legs went limp, and then they were dead. Dipper picked them off one by one, and tossed them outside the log. The last one he removed was the one that had dug in. He had to manually unhook each of its legs, leaving a circle of 8 wounds on Wendy's back. This one he didn't toss. This one he smashed with the butt of the magnet gun, leaving its wreckage sparking on the bottom of the log.

They breathed a sigh of relief. Wendy's breath sounded forced. Dipper had never seen her like this, in so much pain.

"Are you okay?" Dipper asked.

She turned back to him, and she had tears in her eyes. She stretched her back experimentally. "Uh…" Her voice was small and shaky. "I didn't stay chill…" She muttered, ashamed.

"Oh man, oh man, I'm… I'm so sorry, I shouldn't have tried to yank it."

She stretched some more, and grimaced. "Uh… No. You didn't do ANYTHING wrong. I was the one who told you too… I'm sorry."

"It's okay… I…"

"Dipper, no, I'm SORRY. I did WRONG. I made a fool of you, and made you hurt me on accident. And dude, that wasn't a manliness test. Heck, far as I know, manliness CAN'T be measured! You know what that was? That was me being dumb! I just wanted to tease you a little, and… And honestly, I kind of have a thing with spiders. So when you described them… I started to panic. Just wanted them gone. I did the worst possible thing I could have done, and I yelled at you, and made you panic… But you didn't panic for long. You did all right. So here it is, honestly: I'm sorry."

Dipper nodded, and held her eye. "I forgive you."

"And finally: _you're not a wimp_. You know that. I know that. We both know that. Don't let anyone tell you different. But I forgot it for a second, and I made it sound like I meant it. I made it sound like I don't respect you, even though I do. I'M SORRY."

"And I said I forgive you." He repeated plainly.

She held his eye for a minute, took a deep breath, and then smiled shyly. She picked up her backpack. "Let's get back in the open." She mumbled, and led the way out of the log.

Dipper cast another glance around the inside of the tree, looking for more sharp metal creepy-crawlies. Now that his eyes were adjusted for the darkness, he noticed a mean-looking centipede thing and a colony of shredder beetles (which he named himself based on what their mouths looked like.) Metal bugs seemed to be much larger than their normal counterparts.

He wasted very little time following Wendy out into the light. He picked up one of the dead spiders, and put it in his pack with the other samples. Then he shouldered the pack, tightened his chaps, and seated the hat more firmly on his head.

Wendy grimaced as she put her pack on over the spider cuts.

"Want me to carry your stuff…?" Dipper offered.

"Uh… I'll be fine…"

They stood there for a moment, and Dipper began to have second thoughts about this mission. He looked left, toward the iron thicket ahead of them. He looked right, back the way they'd come. He looked at his camera, already full of amazing pictures. He looked at the cuts on his hands, still painful. And then he looked Wendy in the eye, and he could tell she was thinking all these same things.

"We need to go back." She stated, matter-of-factly. "We're getting cut, drilled, sliced, and stabbed. It ain't getting easier to take, and it sure as heck ain't stopping. We can't survive here. We're only human, and there's only two of us. If we stay here any longer… If something bigger or sharper comes around… Something that's actually _trying_ to kill us… Nobody will know anything's wrong until 6, when Thompson shows to pick us up and we're not there… We're not in a good spot. This wasn't a good plan."

It was then that Dipper understood: Wendy was afraid. He'd seen it before only rarely, but he recognized it now: she feared for their safety. She feared for their lives. And that made him afraid too.

"Yeah…" He agreed. "But we need to come back. Like we said earlier: armed to the teeth, and armored from head to toe. We'll bring the equipment, and a plan, but we _need_ to come back here."

"Oh, of course! We will!" She promised. "Heck yes we will. But not now. Not until we have a plan. For now we need to get OUT."

He nodded. "Let's go."

* * *

Illustration for this chapter (replace spaces with periods):

www deviantart com/codylabs/art/FOD-Chapter-5-752659238

One of my fave pictures.


	6. Council of Nightmares

Dipper stepped through the front door around dusk. Behind him, Thompson's van pulled off down the road, and somebody shouted "See you around, dude!" After him. He gave a happy wave over his shoulder as he kicked the door closed.

He let his chainsaw chaps and vest fall in the entryway, and jogged into the parlor, where he set his backpack down on the table, plopped himself in the seat next to it, and pulled out a book.

But not just any book.

This was his book.

It had a thick blue binding, reinforced corners, and a silver clasp. Its outside was totally blank, save for a silver pine tree. Upon this tree had been written the numeral '1'.

This was his journal.

He dumped out all the samples on the table next to him. Then he pulled out a pen, opened the journal, and began to write. Everything he could think of. Everything he'd seen. Anatomy, equipment, and behavior of animals. Weaknesses and hazards of spiders. He illustrated everything, drawing detailed pictures of all the animals and plants. He suddenly realized, however, that he couldn't quite remember how the rocket squirrel looked. He would have to get these pictures developed… He pulled out the disposable camera. _Can I develop these on my own? How long would that take? Man I hope they turned out good…_ Oh well. He couldn't finish the illustrations now. He'd just keep writing. Shape, size, and design of plants. Thickness and hardness of wood. The various robot bugs he'd seen in rotten pipes and under rocks. A note about how Wendy didn't even blink at anything they'd seen all day, and how she was second only to Ford in terms of adventuring partners. Maybe even better… He crossed out the part with Wendy, and kept writing.

Man, what a day. What a heck of a day.

Suddenly, he paused. Without even looking, he knew that Mabel was standing by the stairs, watching him from behind. She wasn't usually this silent; something must be making her upset. He made a mental note to double-check if twin ESP was a thing, and addressed her. "Hi Mabel… How's it going?"

"Did you find his mom?" Mabel asked.

Dipper shook his head. "No… No mom yet. Just a lot of crazy stuff. You want to see...? Uh… I mean… What's wrong? What's bothering you?"

"Juan stopped signaling."

He turned to face her, and frowned. "…What, his S.O.S.?"

"Yeah!"

"…So?"

"Dipper, that means I'm his mom now! I don't want to be his mom! I can't keep caring for him! He's growing and he's eating and I don't own a lot of metal to feed him so I really can't care for him if he gets any bigger than a dog and besides I don't want Soos' power bill to be super huge… And… And I love him, but…"

"Hey…" Dipper noticed she had the sleeping robot tucked in her arms. However, her face said she didn't quite want it there. "Hey… That's not what that means…"

"Isn't it?"

"…Okay, I don't know, but I'm sure his mom still wants him, and if we showed him to her, they would still complete whatever handshaking signal process they need to interface, and then everything would be all great, and…"

"But are you sure?" Mabel asked. "What if she doesn't want him? What if he smells like human now, and she doesn't recognize him anymore… How will he survive?"

"Uh… I wouldn't worry. He's a pretty fierce little guy…"

"But look!" Mabel pulled out her phone, and played the video Wendy took of the large robot the day before. "See this? This is his mom, right?"

"Yeah…"

"Well look at these! What are those little holes there on her sides?"

Dipper looked. Sure enough, there was a row of about 4 indents on her right side. The video showed her turning, and there were 4 more on her left. Dipper looked back at Juan. He didn't have those features. "What do those have to do with anything?" Dipper asked. "What are those, anyway?"

"They're those things that all girls have!" Mabel said. "Wendy has them, I have them, Melody has them…! They're those things for recharging babies! You know those!"

Dipper blinked. "…Oh…"

"That's why Juan sucks on the outlets around the house! Because he thinks they're nipples! And that means when he goes back to the wild, he's still a nursing baby! He'll still need a mom to help him survive! He can't live on his own, he needs… He needs somebody to care for him until he's large enough to be his own bot! And then somebody who can teach him how to live and to find food on his own! Aunt Mabel doesn't know how! He can't grow to be a good robot by living here!"

"Mabel, hey! It's all right! It's all right… We'll get him back to his mom! Things are gonna turn out all right, okay? And in the meantime, nobody says _you_ need to care for him… It's… Mabel, the world isn't resting on your shoulders right now. If anything, this should be my and Wendy's responsibility…"

"But he hates you… He loves me… I'm the only one who can do this."

"Ouch. But no, you're not the only one. You could set up something with your friends… You could train him to deal without you… You could build him a pen… You could take a break…"

"No! You think just because you and Wendy think you're 'heroes' now, that everybody else isn't? No! Juan's world IS resting on my shoulders now! He found his way here, and he saws everyone else, and so I'm the best person in the universe for the job because I'm MABEL and animals LOVE me and I love THEM. I'm… I'm just… He needs more than a human being! He needs his real mom!"

"We're working on it." Dipper promised her. He held up his hand, and showed her the scratches. He pointed to the marks on his cheeks. "We're working on it." He promised again, and pointed to his journal. "And I'm working on it now. Research. Documentation. Important stuff."

Mabel sighed. "…Okay…"

Dipper kept writing.

They heard the RV pull up outside. The Stans were home!

Dipper hurriedly shoved all the samples back into his backpack, and closed the journal. He wanted to show it to Ford all at once. He'd be so blown away…

Momentarily, the Stans came walking through the door.

"Well, we're back!" Ford loudly announced, for no real reason and to nobody in particular.

"Home sweet shack." Stan sighed.

"Grunkle Stan, what happened to your arm?" Mabel gasped.

Stan looked down at the sling. "Oh." He grunted. "Yeah. Well here's how it goes: we get down there into the alien space wreck, and it turns out there's no ladders! So, instead of bringing a rope or something practical, Ford suddenly has the brilliant idea of Tarzan-ing around with grapple beams instead!"

"They're not grapple beams, they're magnet guns, Stanley!" Ford sighed. "Huge difference! And was it really all that bad?"

"You didn't warn me how powerful those things are!" Stan protested. "It's only AFTER I dislocate my shoulder that you get around to telling me that one of these things killed Newton! I don't even know who Newton is!"

"I said Kilonewtons, Stan!" Ford facepalmed. "As in thousands of Newtons. Newtons are a measure of force!"

"You bet it's a display of force!" Stan shook his head. "Killing a man! My gosh. When did I sign up for being ripped apart by murderous tools?"

"We've been doing this type of thing for a year now!"

"A walk through the most frigid places on Earth is one thing! A fistfight here and there is one thing! But I ain't Tarzan!" Stan protested. "I can't just be a monkey or a superhero whenever I want! I'm old! And unless you've been hitting the cosmic sand again, you're just _as_ old! We can't keep doing this!"

Stanford sighed through his nose. "Ugh." He groaned. "Well… You had fun, at least? Learned something, maybe?"

Stan frowned a moment longer, then jostled his brother in the shoulder. A smile spread across his face. "Eh. What are _you_ on about? ' _Course_ I had fun, poindexter."

"Hey!" Dipper simply couldn't keep his excitement in any longer, so he piped up, and gestured to his backpack. "Guess what Wendy and I found today!"

Ford turned toward him, and in one long look, took in the whole situation: Dipper's sweat-stained clothes, his muddy boots, his cut and bleeding face, his heavy, bulging backpack, the journal clutched tightly to his chest, and his carefree, overjoyed grin. He also took in Mabel: the tiny scratches on her hands, the robot held uncomfortably in her arms, the tired look on her face.

Ford put his hands on his hips, and frowned just slightly. "What did you find?" He asked.

" _The Forest of Daggers_." Dipper said.

Ford raised an eyebrow, and Dipper began to tell his story.

By the time the story was done, Ford had finished looking over the samples. Now he set down the robot spider, and spent a moment in thought.

Finally he spoke. "Dipper, I really think you should take a… Hmm, a break of some kind."

"Yeah, I know." Dipper said. "Wendy's gonna try and find us some armor tomorrow, like football pads or something, and then we can go through it safely-"

"That's great, but NO." Ford said. "I mean ALL of this." He pointed to the meticulous notes in Dipper's journal, and the razor-sharp samples, and his stained clothes. "You need to step away from this for a bit."

"…What?" Dipper's face slowly fell. "You mean, like, weirdness in general? Any sort of adventure? Any sort of danger?"

"Well…" Ford scratched his head. "Sort of…"

"What do you mean?" Dipper frowned. "I'll be careful; I'll be responsible… You've been doing this type of thing for, like, 40 years now! Why can't I?"

"Remember how you turned down my apprenticeship last summer-"

"Is _that_ what this is about? You think because I said 'no, not yet', that I don't want it at all? I still do! I came back to Gravity Falls, didn't I? I still want this life, so I still work toward it. And you're still my mentor. Even when I just had your journal, you always have been. And until you kick the bucket, you always will be. I follow you!"

"I know, I know… But… I worry about you Dipper. For one, I worry about WHAT you're doing." Ford met his eye. "For the past 2 days, you've been running around the forest with Daniel's daughter looking for monsters. Getting yourself lost in strange places, cut all to pieces, into danger, out of danger, sitting in a log filled with killer spiders… If your parents knew what I let you do… You just need to be more careful. Bottom line. More careful."

"Okay."

"But MOST of all, I worry about WHY you're doing this. You're venturing out into the great unknown, getting yourself beat up, making sacrifices, working hard… Then you come home and write in your journal, pretending you're a big important scientist… But WHY are you doing it? For the sake of the town's safety? For the sake of science? For the sake of your sister? Or the survival of Juan's species? Those would be good reasons. But I suspect the bad reasons: When you're out there, you've got a beautiful girl at your side who you want to spend time with. And when you're back here, you've got a respected scientist to look over your work and give you little compliments. You want more than anything to impress both of us. You want the GLORY!"

"Well… I guess…"

"You're running yourself ragged for the sake of people whose opinions shouldn't matter to you! You're destroying yourself! And moreover, LOOK!" Ford pointed to Mabel. "MEANWHILE your sister has been stuck at home, babysitting a killer robot all alone. It needs constant attention, it's chewing on the house, and now she's thinking this is her fate now. She's tired! THIS is the very reason you rightly rejected my apprenticeship last summer! Because at this point in your life, you have more important things to do than my nonsense! Do you seriously need me to show that to you? _Is this how your life looks now, Dipper_? If it is, then I want to stop you here!"

"But-"

" _Don't let this dominate you, my boy_!" Ford emphasized. "Listen to _me_ , because when _I_ was young, I did the same exact thing! I moved all the way out here, I isolated myself, I distanced myself from my parents, I cut away my friends, I shunned my own brother, all in the name of _GREATNESS_ …" He shook his head. " _Greatness_ is like true love, Dipper. It's a _MYTH_. It's a sparkle in the eye of foolish young men, and nothing more. Don't be seduced by it."

"Romance is a crapshoot." Stan verified.

Dipper thought about all this. And he thought about Mabel. And he looked up to apologize to her, but she was no longer standing by the stairs. Sometime during all this, she realized she wasn't needed, and quietly retreated back to her room.

Dipper's eyes fell to the floor. "I get it." He mumbled.

Ford walked over and put a hand on his shoulder. "Mason." He said, quietly. "If I wanted you far away from danger, I wouldn't have let you come back here. I _do_ want you to have this life, and for all your dreams to come true. But there's a difference between using your talents to the best of your ability, and signing your life away to an obsession. I can't let you fall into the same pit that I did."

"Hmm."

"I see a lot of myself in you, Mason. More every day, it seems like. And sometimes it makes me proud. And sometimes it makes me angry, because sometimes I hate myself… More than anything, I want you to be a better man than I was… That's all."

Dipper nodded.

There was a minute of silence.

"Well geez, Ford!" Stan interrupted. "Can't you see this kid's bleeding all over the chair? He looks like he got mauled by a pencil sharpener! Help me with this first aid kit, would ya? I've only got one useful arm right now…"

"We were having a moment." Ford explained.

"Ugh." Stan shook his head. "Is this moment done yet?"

"Yes." Ford sighed.

"Good. Take this rubbing alcohol, huh? Start getting those disinfected. I'll get the bandages."

"Okay… And get some ice for your own arm too! Don't think I've forgotten…"

"Hey…" Dipper changed the subject, as they set upon him with the supplies. "What were you doing down at Crash Site Omega today?"

"Ripping our gorram ARMS out." Stan answered. "As you know."

"No, Stan." Ford laughed. "He means what our mission was. And the answer is that we were exploring. Trying to map out the wreck, diagnose its damage, find out how it works, find more clues as to why it crashed, what happened to the occupants, and in general who these extraterrestrials were."

"Did you make any progress?" Dipper asked.

"OH HO!" Ford's face lit up. "Did we ever! Remember those giant pillars surrounding the ship's central chamber, from when we were down there, Dipper? Well, we're pretty sure that those are artificial gravity generator. The 'engines' that propel the ship. And today, we made our way to the center of the ship right beneath those, and guess what we found in that engine room?"

"What?"

"A totally locked and sealed control room! And when we broke into it, we found an intact computer terminal! Most of the other mechanisms in the ship had been destroyed by eons of corrosion and decay, but this one had remained perfectly sealed! I worked out an interface with the computer, and most of its data seemed pretty much intact!"

"Dude!" Dipper smiled. "That's awesome! So then we'll be able to recover all their logs? Find out why they crashed? What they were doing? Who they are?"

"Hopefully…" Ford nodded. "However… Most of the data was lost, since most of the computers were destroyed. We were only able to salvage bits and pieces. And besides… We don't know the language."

"Oh." Dipper frowned. "Yeah, that's a problem."

"But now for my next surprise!" Ford announced. "I used to believe that if we were to develop an ET-English translation, we would either need a living alien, a huge supercomputer, or decades of work studying their writing. But then!" Ford reached into his coat. "I know it's crazy, but it turns out that in the 31 years since I was last really down there, human computer technology has progressed forward in leaps and bounds! Behold!"

He removed a small, flat device from his coat and held it up, to allow the rest of the family to bask in its glory.

Dipper was unimpressed.

"It's just a tablet, isn't it?" He said.

"Just a tablet?!" Incredulous, Ford gasped and spat at the same time. It was an undignified action, and it made him almost choke on his own spit. "Look at it! It's amazing!" He coughed. He turned it on and began to swipe through the menu with his finger. His eyes had a mesmerized look in them, and he drooled just a bit. "This contains more computing power than I ever would have dreamed of in my day! And data storage? Forget about it! I hooked this up to the computer terminal, and downloaded almost a terabyte of alien data. A TERAbyte, Dipper! In my day, that amount of information was only theoretical!"

"Heh." Stan laughed and shook his head. "I always thought those things were just for pirating junk and watching stupid stuff online… Kids poison their minds with it, it make them tame and docile…"

"I'm just astounded." Ford shook his head. "This technology is so advanced. Think of it! We could one day do banking and taxes electronically and wirelessly… Or have community-editable world-wide encyclopedias to store knowledge… Or allow the instant sharing and critiquing of the arts… I can only begin to imagine…"

Dipper rolled his eyes and hid a smile. His Great Uncle may be one of the smartest men alive, but spending 30 years as a dimension-hopping fugitive could make anybody hopelessly dated. "Wow." He said, trying to hide his sarcasm. "That'll be the day, huh?"

"I know…" Sighed Ford.

"What does this have to do with the language?"

"Ah! Yes!" Ford returned to the subject. "Well now! NOW! Now we don't NEED a supercomputer to translate it! McGucket just had to write an 'app' for this device! Now, the app is crawling through the data I downloaded, examining patterns, context, and phonetic cadence. If we give it a while to run, it should be able piece together the meanings of certain basic words and sentence structures! And the more data we download, the more the app works, and better the translations gets! When we come back tomorrow… It may be almost comprehensible…"

"Oh, wow!" Dipper smiled. "That's awesome! So then we'll just be able to read it directly in English?"

"Hopefully!" Ford smiled. "So long as their language follows certain rules of logic and order, and so long as the data isn't cluttered by too much useless nonsense… Yes. We should be able to decode it."

"Nice! Man, McGucket sure is a genius."

"Yes." Ford nodded. "I just hope we find enough data down there to actually be of use… It would be a shame if the only alien records that survived were… Maintenance logs, or stuff like that… I suppose it was just the engine room, after all…"

"Yeah…"

Melody took this moment to interrupt. "Dinner's ready!" She called from the kitchen. "Who wants meat pancakes? Made with processed animal parts and love!"

"I do!" They all chorused, and made for the kitchen.

* * *

Some time later, Wendy found herself standing in the Gravity Falls town square. She was wearing football pads, chainsaw chaps, thick boots, a tough helmet, and was armed with a great variety of weapons, from axes to knives to a few ray guns. She felt quite prepared to face and kill anything at all. This security made her feel confident and relaxed, so she started walking, in no particular direction.

She stopped when she passed by the church, however. She had a feeling, deep in the back of her mind, that she had done, or was about to do, something very terrible. Yes, some grievous sin was being held against her. She needed forgiveness. She needed to go to confession.

She turned to walk toward the church. Old Man McGucket passed her, en route to the same building. As he crested the top of the steps and put his hand on the door handle, he gestured toward her ray guns with a smile. "Don't worry, feller!" He cackled. "Yer secret's safe with me!"

She knew he was talking about her sin. He'd built her the ray guns, and somehow, they were at the center of all this… She would use them to sin, very soon… And he knew it.

McGucket opened the door to the church, and there was a lot of noise coming from inside. People talking, some song playing. She recognized several of the voices. Soos. Mabel. The Stans. They all sounded very happy. But why were they all here at church? It wasn't Sunday…

"What's going on in there?" She asked McGucket.

"Eh?" The hillbilly scratched his head. "Why, it's Dipper, a' course! Today's his wedding! Didn't 'e tell yeh?"

Wendy blinked. She was confused, though not altogether surprised. "Oh." She said. "Well, good for him, I guess. Who's the lucky girl?"

"That Northwest lass, a' course! Who else?" McGucket cackled, and went inside. Through the open door, Wendy spied Dipper standing at the altar next to Pacifica. He was standing tall, and smiling, and wearing a very handsome suit.

She smiled half a smile. Good for him. Good for him. She thought about heading in and joining the party, but thought better of it. This was his happy day, and he didn't need it spoiled by somebody like her: boisterous and troublesome and dressed for battle. He didn't need a Wendy today. Church didn't need a Wendy today. And besides, she didn't particularly like the song they were playing.

She turned to keep heading down the street.

But a voice stopped her.

"WENDY! Wendy, you've got to stop this!"

She turned to see Dipper himself, wearing his stinky, dirty shorts and vest, sprinting up at her from the opposite direction.

"Huh?" She blinked. "Stop what?"

"The wedding! Duh!"

"Wait, what? How is this _any_ of my business? You can make your own decisions, so don't get _me_ involved! And shouldn't you be inside? You're missing your big day, man!"

"No, Wendy!" He gulped. "That's not me in there! Did that look like me?! I don't wear nice clothes! That's the shapeshifter!"

Wendy paused for a beat. "Oh." She laughed. "Ha! Now I get it."

"You've got to go kill him, Wendy! He's evil! Lots of people could be hurt or killed and you're the only one that can do anything about it! Be a hero! It's all up to you!"

Wendy looked down at her hands. She was holding McGucket's ray guns. "Well, now that's a problem I can fix!" She nodded. "Let's go!"

They ran up the stairs to the church, and burst in through the doors. "ALL RIGHT EVERYONE!" Wendy announced. "THERE'S FREE PIZZA OVER IN THE PARK! GET OUTTA HERE AND GO GIT IT!"

That big, fat dude in a red t-shirt led the way, and the rest of the townsfolk followed him. "Git it! Git it!" The mayor chanted. They all filed out the exits, leaving Wendy, Pacifica, and the Dippers alone in the church.

The Dipper at the altar frowned. "What are you talking about? I'm not the shapeshifter!" He said. He reached over, grabbed Pacifica's hand, and pulled her close. "I'm the real Dipper! And I really DO love Pacifica!"

"Don't change the subject, short-stack!" She told him. "I don't care!"

"And I really…" Pacifica began.

"Nobody asked you, you walking one-dimensional-bleach-blonde-valley-girl-stereotype!" Wendy commanded. "Step away from him! It's dangerous!"

"No, I'm safe! He's the shapeshifter!" The fancy-dressed Dipper said. "And he's extremely dangerous!"

"No, I'm the real Dipper!"

"No, I'm Dipper!"

"I am Dipper!"

"I am Dipper!"

"WELL WHO DO I KILL THEN!?" Wendy demanded.

"Him!"

"Him!"

Wendy realized that Mabel was still in the church as well. "NO!" The girl cried. "The monster is just misunderstood! He's actually a really sweet guy deep down, and if you just took the time to know him, you'd see him for what he really is: Happy and adorable! Come on, Wendy! Don't kill him! Give him a chance!"

Wendy realized that Soos was still in the church as well. "I don't know dude." He shook his head. "Maybe you shouldn't do anything. Let junk happen. Maybe it's true love after all."

She realized that Robbie was there too, and he was wearing nothing but underwear and flip-flops. "Bruh." Robbie said.

"Put on some shoes, Robbie!" Wendy snapped. She was good and angry now, and very confused. There was a monster here, and all her friends (and Pacifica) were right in harm's way! If she didn't do something about the monster soon, it would kill them! And then it would be her fault, for not taking action when she had the chance!

"Listen to your heart!" Mabel pleaded. "Have mercy!"

"Listen to your mind!" Dipper told her. "You know which one is right!"

"BUT I DON'T!" Wendy protested. She pointed the ray guns at one Dipper, and then the other. "I'm not smart enough to tell which way is right! I'm not creative or clever enough! I don't have the wisdom! _But I'm the only one who can make this decision, and I need to make it NOW!_ "

Then she heard another voice, quiet and gentle, whisper in her ear. " _There's only one way to be sure._ "

"You're right." She realized.

She leveled the ray guns, and shot both Dippers.

They crumpled into piles on the floor, bled out, and died.

"Good job." The voice whispered. "You're a hero now."

Wendy dropped the guns, and gasped. She had saved the day. She had saved a whole lot of people. She was a hero. But at what price?

"NO! But look!" Mabel cried. "SEE?" She pointed to the two puddles of blood swelling on the floor. "Neither have green blood! They both bleed red! That means that both were good guys! I was right the whole time, and now you're a MURDERER!"

It was all for naught. After all this time, after everything she'd done, she'd been wrong. She'd only ever been wrong. Her entire mission was wrong. She hadn't done anything righteous at all, and now something precious was dead. Mabel had forever been stripped of her beloved brother. Pacifica had lost her beloved boyfriend. And Wendy… She had truly lost something deep and dear; a friend, and more than a friend… She'd lost her companion, her blood brother. All the good in all the world could never make up for that. Nothing in the universe would ever return the treasure she had destroyed, and there could be no atonement for what she did.

"No." She whispered, as she sunk to her knees, and began to weep bitterly. The world darkened and blurred, and she wished she was dead.

"And now." The voice said. "It is time for confession."

Wendy opened her eyes.

She was in her room, lying peacefully in bed. The moon shone down through the open window, and the breeze that came through it was cold.

Oh.

It was all just a dream.

Kind of obvious in retrospect.

It might not have been real, but it had nonetheless left her with a vivid memory, and an all-encompassing feeling of horror and guilt. She wondered for a moment what it meant, what it could symbolize, what she could learn from it, whether such a thing could ever be real.

But it was just a dream. And, as everybody knows, dreams never mean anything at all.

She breathed deeply to calm her thundering heart, and rubbed her eyes. When her hands came away, they were wet. She must have been crying in her sleep. Bizarre.

She turned over in bed, pulled the covers up tighter, and closed her eyes.

Before once again casting off into the fog of sleep, she opened her mouth and said. "Ugh."

* * *

"DIPPER, COME QUICKLY! MY **FACE** IS ON **FIRE**!"

Dipper sat up in bed and groaned. He had learned long ago that Ford's personal issues were far less serious than they sounded. All it really meant was that he wanted him, and wanted him quickly. Dipper groggily rolled out of bed and made for the stairs, pulling on his pants and vest as he did. Man, this was early… Couldn't it have waited a little longer? He needed sleep… He glanced over at the bathroom, wondering if he should brush his teeth before heading out.

Ford seemed to read his mind from across the property. "DIPPER! HELP! IT **BURNS**!"

"All right… I'm coming, I'm coming…"

It wasn't a long walk out to the Stan's RV, and when he got there he found the door open.

"Ah! There you are." Ford had just finished shaving, and turned around to greet his nephew with a chipper smile. Dipper tried to ignore the stench of burned hair. "Stan and I wanted to head out early today, and I wanted to show you the results from the samples you found."

"Oh… Yeah, those. Right. What did you find?" Dipper asked.

Stan beckoned him inside, and pointed to several pictures taken from a microscope. "So. Functionally, these things are almost identical to ordinary plants. However, their inner processes are completely different. For instance, their cells are hard and rigid, and therefore can't divide and multiply in the traditional way. See these nanobots here…" He pointed to some specks on the slide. "They're tiny. Scarcely larger than a bacterium in our own bodies. I'm not sure what organ the plant uses to manufacture them, but I do know what they do. They travel through narrow channels in the plant's structure, searching for gaps or damage. When they find such a gap, they lock themselves down, and overload their batteries. This welds them into place, and they become the shell of another cell in the structure. Then it seems that the actual inner workings of the cell are produced somewhere _else_ , and they arrive to fill the shell after the welding is complete. That's how the plant grows and repairs itself."

"Oh…" Dipper nodded. "Cool."

"As for material…" Ford continued. "The plants' bodies are made of alloys containing aluminum, silicon, iron and titanium. The leaves are heavily silicon, and the outer crust is mostly titanium or steel."

"Titanium?" Dipper scratched his head. "I… I think I read that titanium is kind of rare…"

"Very good." Ford winked. "I was just getting to that." He turned to the soil samples. "The soil you collected, it isn't ordinary dirt. Normal dirt is mostly silicon, oxygen, and aluminum, same as rocks. But THIS is about 3 parts in every 10 iron, and 1 part in 10 titanium. Virtually no carbon, and low in every organic compound. _Not_ the same stuff that the normal forest grows on. Normal life can't use it, whereas this life thrives in it."

"That explains why the forest stayed so small." Dipper nodded. "This must be the _only place in the entire world_ where these species can grow."

"Quite right." Ford nodded.

"But where did the metal come from?" Dipper asked. "Originally? WHY does the soil have so much metal in it? And where did all the life come from in the first place?"

Ford laughed, and stood up. "You're asking the exact right questions, my boy… And I have exactly none of the answers."

"Yeah." Dipper nodded. "Hey, I was thinking about what you said yesterday, and you're right. I'm gonna take today off. I think I'll help Mabel build some kind of pen for Juan, so she doesn't have to watch him 24/7… Then maybe we get together with Soos, and the three of us go to the pool. It's gonna be hot today."

"What are you gonna build the pen out of?"

"I… I don't know. He can cut through pretty much anything if he puts his mind to it, so… Either some crazy thick steel, or I was thinking of asking McGucket if he had some kind of magnetic barrier. Is that even a thing?"

"Umm… Ah! Try glass." Ford suggested. "Much cheaper."

This confused Dipper. "Glass?"

"Glass is actually incredibly hard." Ford assured him. "Nearly impossible to cut, dent, or scratch. I don't believe his saws could get through."

"But… Glass… Shatters."

"I never said it was _tough_ , I said it was _hard_. And Juan is _sharp_ , not _strong_ , so hardness is more important than toughness. Get some good thick glass in his way, and I bet he'd be trapped."

"Huh. Like an aquarium? A big aquarium?"

"Try everyday windows. Set up some small, thick windows, caulk them together, and reinforce them on the back side." Ford reached into his pocket, and produced two coins of stolen Aztec gold. "That should be enough." He said. "Be careful with those coins, though. Hecka cursed."

"Okay." Dipper pocketed the gold, and worked through a shopping list in his mind. "I can do that." He nodded. "Buy some windows, build a pen, hit the pool… Plus I have a date tonight, so I should probably prepare for that too…"

"HEEEEEY!" Stan peaked out of the RV's bathroom. "Good for you, Romeo! I always knew you had it in ya!"

"Heh. Thanks. I guess."

"Who's it with?" Ford asked. "Candy Chiu? I've talked to her father; she's a good catch."

"No, uh… Pacifica."

"What?!" Stan gasped. "That Northwest brat? I thought we all collectively hated her! It was a family-bonding-type deal to wish social and/or physical harm upon her! It unified us!"

"She's actually pretty nice once you get to know her…"

"BAH! You turncoat…"

Ford frowned. "Northwest? They're kind of… Rich… Dipper, this isn't a fancy dinner, is it?"

"Yeeeeah…" He admitted. "But it was either that or horseback riding, so… Wait, actually it was 'ponyback riding'… Wait, what's the difference between a horse and a pony?"

"Oh boy." Stan shook his head. "Take it from me kid, stick to what you're good at. Take her to the arcade or something next time. Or to the pool. Or to a movie. Or to tacos. Or to fight club. Or… Las Vegas or something. But _never_ to fancy places. Fancy places don't fit people like us."

"Fight club?" Dipper frowned. "And hold on, what do you mean 'people like us'?"

"Lowlifes." Stan explained. "Us dirty, stinky, casual, penny-pinching paupers. There's nothing _wrong_ with being at the bottom of the food chain, but it sure sets us apart from them."

"He's right, you know." Ford nodded.

"Ugh." Dipper shook his head. "Come on! It's not gonna be that bad…! I can dress up. I can do fancy…"

"Don't ever try to rise to her level." Stan warned him. "Bring _her_ down to _your_ level instead. It's less work for both of you, and dirt cheap. And it goes right along with that whole semi-jerk sort of vibe I've told you about. Be the 'bad boy'. The ladies love that."

Dipper _strongly_ suspected that this was terrible advice, although he didn't say so. "Uh… Okay…" He said instead. "I mean, we'll see how this goes, right?"

Stan made his way to the front of the RV, sat down in the driver's seat, and started the engine. Ford sat down beside him, and handed the metal life samples back to Dipper. Dipper turned to leave the vehicle. "Yes. We'll see." Ford shrugged. "We'll see."

* * *

Illustration for this chapter (replace spaces with periods):

www deviantart com/codylabs/art/FOD-Chapter-6-752665745


	7. The Irrelevant Date

-hull proximity alert

-warning: high-velocity impact predicted bearing 18/2639/10

-automatic hardening of ventral framework

-attempt correction maneuvers

-warning: malfunction

-warning: primary coil failure

-warning: secondary coil failure

-warning: tertiary coil failure

-emergency procedures initiated

-attempt capacitor dump to uncertainty drive

-capacitor dump failed

-rupture detected in pipeline 17

-diagnose

-mechanical failure

-servo 39.0 over-articulated

-insufficient time for automated repair

-request pilot input

-pilot input delayed

-request diagnostic crewmember response

-diagnostic crewmember response delayed

-attempt capacitor dump to uncertainty drive

-dump type: arc discharge

-arc discharge successful

-uncertainty drive malfunction

-warning: uncertainty velocity increase to *[3/ddp^10=7aa4`~~0?9~0~~~~~~~~~

"Check it out!" Dipper giddily held his phone in front of Pacifica's face. She recoiled slightly at his advance, and almost spilled her water. "Guess what this is?!" He asked her.

"Umm…" She frowned at it, and began to read the words on the screen. "Uh… What does 'ventral' mean? Is that a word?"

"Yes it IS!" Dipper smiled at the phone. "But do you know what these are? My great uncle just texted this too me! This is the first coherent translation of extraterrestrial language! These are actual logs from one of their flight computers!" He returned the phone to his lap and began typing out a reply. "Man this is so cool! An actual successful translation! I gotta ask what else he's found. If anything more than the diagnostic logs survived…"

"Extraterrestrial…?" Pacifica frowned. "Wait… Does that mean alien?"

"Yeah…!" Dipper suddenly realized that the whole 'aliens exist' thing was on a strictly need-to-know basis. He stopped typing abruptly. "Uh… I mean… I can't… Really tell you… I mean… Uh… Yeah. There are a few aliens we think. And we think this is from one of their computers. But… Uh…"

"Are they dangerous?" She asked.

"No! Uh. No. I mean, they can't be since they're all dead."

"But you _are_ saying there's aliens? Dead aliens?"

"Uh… Yeeeeah… I'm not sure if I'm supposed to tell you…" Dipper pocketed his phone, suddenly highly self-conscious. "I… Kind of got caught up in the moment there… My Great Uncle really doesn't want people knowing about it, so…"

"Well okay, sorry." She shrugged. "Like, if it's that important, then sure. I won't tell… But why would your great uncle want to keep it a secret anyway?" She took a sip of water. "He's still owns that mystery hut back in the woods, doesn't he? I bet dead aliens would draw a lot of business. He could make some pretty good money. Unless they're super gross. But if they're just skeletons, then that would be really great."

"No, uh… The other uncle. The one that doesn't care much about money. And he doesn't own the shack anymore. Soos does."

"You have two uncles…?" She frowned. "Oh yeah, that other old guy… I suppose they do look a lot alike. Except he has six fingers."

"Yeah. They're brothers. And… Yeah."

"Well you should tell the new proprietor that dead aliens would be a really cool attraction. Like, I'm sure people would just love that."

There was a brief pause. Dipper blinked. "Proprietor…? What does that mean?"

"Oh… It means… Like, owner. Manager. Caretaker. But more formal."

"Oh. Well… Hey, uh… If we _did_ have an alien attraction, would you… Like it…?"

She shrugged. "Well, I don't know. I'd kind of like to see aliens, I suppose. If they're not trying to kill me. Like, it seems like everything weird is trying to kill me. So they have to be dead… But I don't really like the mystery hut though. So I don't think I should go there. And my mom would totally kill me if she found out I spent money there because she wants me to save it."

"Huh… Yeah. I get that… Uh… What are you saving your money for?"

"Hmm? Oh, investments. My dad is teaching me how to do business and stocks and things."

"Oh. Cool… So… How's… Uh… Say, how's your dad, anyway? Is his… Face fine?"

"His… Face?" She frowned, trying to think what he could possibly be talking about. "Oh!" She finally remembered, and shook her head. "Yeah, his face is fine. _Never mind all that_ though."

"Never mind-? Oh. Okay." Dipper scratched his head. "How's his… How's his overbearing… Fatherliness… Going. I mean, are you cool? I know that whole ghost situation and his thing with the bell didn't turn out so well…"

"Oh. Yeah. He's kind of shut up after we sold the mansion, and I paid the butler to hide the bell, but he still gets on my nerves sometimes. But don't get me started on my _mom_ though…"

She kept talking.

Dipper's neck itched, so he reached up to scratch it. But there was a problem: his tie was in the way, and he couldn't reach the itch. A TIE. Did fancy people have to deal with ties a lot? How did you loosen a tie? Was it even socially acceptable to loosen a tie while on a date? How are you supposed to be polite when you've got a fat, weird rope cinched up around your throat? _Wait a minute, why are ties a thing in the first place? WHAT IN THE NAME OF PAUL BUNYAN ARE TIES EVEN FOR?_

He should ask Pacifica. She would know. He opened her mouth to ask her, but she was still talking, and he knew enough about etiquette to know it was rude to interrupt. Wait a minute, how do you pronounce etiquette? He'd only ever seen it written, never heard it spoken. Does the 'Q' make a 'qu' sound or a 'k' sound? He suddenly realized that he should have been listening to what Pacifica was saying.

He tuned back in. She was saying something about getting trained for horseback riding. Or… Wait, was it a horse or a pony? What's the difference between a horse and a pony? Did it matter? Why am I so sweaty? Do horses sweat?

 _No! It's too late! I didn't tune in when I had the chance, and now she just asked me a question! What was the question? What do I say?! Forgive me, Pacifica, I screwed up! WHAT DO I SAY?!_

* * *

Wendy examined herself in the bathroom mirror.

She couldn't really see herself.

PERFECT!

The armor kept almost every square inch of her skin covered. Composite leggings and gauntlets protected her arms and legs, football pads and helmet took care of her head and upper body, and everything else was covered by thick jeans, and a flannel jacket with the collar turned up.

Yes, a day's worth of searching had certainly paid off. Her brothers had agreed to loan her the pads until the whole robot thing was done, and the arm and leg armor was a gift from McGucket, under the condition that she use it to bring back some cool things for him to study. (He was a really nice guy, actually. Any military contractor would have charged, like, thousands of dollars for this junk. But he just loaned it for free. What a friend.)

Anyway, now it was utterly perfect. She could _run_ through that forest now. She could roll around in the grass, climb the trees, faceplant into the bushes, rub spiders in her armpits, and none of it could even touch her.

She reached up under the helmet and added the final touch: a pair of safety glasses. Now. _Now_ it was perfect.

She laughed at how silly she looked. She didn't exactly look like Wendy anymore… Actually, with her hair tucked in, she looked a bit like a dorky football robot with a big fat head and big fat arms. It wasn't quite as robot-like as a space-warrior-time-cop (which was one of her aspirations) but still pretty weird. Man, if only her friends could see her now. They'd be all like: 'huh?'

She had a suit prepared for Dipper too. She hoped he would like his, and that it wouldn't be too heavy.

"Wendy, what are you doing in there?" Her brother asked through the door, derailing her train of thought.

"I'm… Changing!" She told him, and reached up to remove the helmet. "Not decent! Go away!"

"Yeah, well… Dad says you better hurry up, because there's a robot outside and it's making the TV go all glitchy…"

" _WHAT_?!" She pulled the door open, still fully armored, and rushed past her brother and out into the living room.

Her dad glanced up at her, and frowned. "WHAT THE BLAZES ARE YOU WEARING, SON?"

"No dad, it's me!" She pulled up the helmet to show him.

"WENDY, YOU LOOK LIKE A GUY." He frowned.

"I know, I'm sorry! Kind of hard to slap together cool armor when you're on a budget of literally nothing. But dad! You said there's a robot or something?"

"YEAH." He pointed to the window. "WE SAW RED EYES OUTSIDE, AND NOW THE TV IS ACTING UP AGAIN. JUST LIKE IT WAS WHEN YOU FOUND THAT LITTLE ONE."

"…Dad, how big were these eyes?"

"UH…" He held up his hands to the about the size of footballs. "PRETTY BIG. I BET I COULD STILL KILL IT WITH AN AXE THOUGH."

The lion.

The mother.

The mother was here.

Wendy sprinted back to her room, and grabbed a few things: her magnet gun, an axe, and the duffle bag containing Dipper's armor. She was back in the living room in seconds. "Okay dad!" She said. "This is the same robot I told you about! It's the size of two of you, and has saws on its saws! It sees and hears in radio signals, so turn off your cell phones, the TV, and anything electronic! We want it alive, so try not to kill it. But if it attacks you or the house, fry its brain with this gun! Stay the heck away from the saws!"

Her dad took the tool, and stared at it in a confused sort of way.

"You cock it like a normal pistol to charge it up, and pull the trigger to fire." She explained. "Keep it on pulse setting. I'll be back!" She turned to head for the door.

A massive hand on her shoulder stopped her short. "WENDY WHERE ARE YOU GOING?"

She turned to look up into her dad's worried face. "Dad, I trust you to keep the house safe. Do you trust _me_?"

He held her eye for a minute, then nodded. "I DO."

"Then trust me when I say we CAN'T face this thing with axes. This thing is more than a match for you. More than a match for any man. Do you trust me to fix this?"

He hesitated. "…I DO."

"And I say we need help. So I'm going to get it."

He released her shoulder, and she sprinted through the door.

Outside, the last hint of orange light illuminated the western sky, as dusk rapidly darkened the world. It would be night soon. Night, when human senses were at their worst. Night, where predators could hide anywhere. Night, when everyone was useless and asleep. Heck of a time to be running from a killer robot.

Her eyes swept the property for any sign of the enemy. Seeing none of it at the moment, she pulled her bike out from under the porch, and mounted up. The bag containing Dipper's armor went over her shoulder, and her axe went in her belt. Then she stood up on the bike's pedals and sped off down the road, away from the house. Only a mile and a half to the mystery shack. Only a mile and a half…

When she was almost out of sight of the cabin, she glanced over her shoulder one more time, to make sure she wasn't being pursued.

That was when her heart nearly stopped.

Way off in the distance, in the shadows beyond the cabin, she saw two round red eyes staring at her.

Holy Bunyan; there it was.

In the darkness, the creature rose to its feet. The eyes lifted above the bushes. Then it began to move towards her; those eyes neither blinking nor wavering, only growing larger as it approached.

As it moved past the light from the cabin's windows, she saw its whole body silhouetted for a moment: wide, tall, dark, and lean. Its legs were a blur as it picked up speed, and its gate changed from a walk to a run to a sprint. It was moving faster than her bicycle. As fast as a car. And it was chasing her.

This was at least the 3rd scariest thing that Wendy had ever experienced in real life.

 _It's chasing me. If I don't do something, it WILL catch me. But I can't panic! I need to think! Let the adrenaline fill you, but don't lose control! This is life or death, Wendy!_

Too late, she realized that she hadn't been watching the road ahead of her. The bike hit a rut, and she went over the handlebars. By the time she got her bearings again, she was lying in the roadside ditch with the bike on top of her. The shoulder pads had taken most of the impact with the ground, so she could stand up again without injury.

But the creature was still coming. How long now? 30 seconds.

She left her bike behind and sprinted. When it passed her bike, she heard the creature stop for just a moment. The forest suddenly became filled with noise as its saws bit down. A shower of sparks briefly lit up the night. When Wendy glanced back again a few seconds later, all that was left of the bike was assorted debris, and the creature charged forward again.

Dang it!

Wendy only had one way to fight this machine, and that was the magnet gun she'd left with her dad. Now she hadn't a hope of combat. There was only one trick left, and that was to hide in the trees. Or up a tree. Or something tree. She had to get out of sight, but it wasn't far behind her now. How long did she have to hide now? Seconds!

 _Life or death, Wendy!_

Suddenly, a loud and thundering voice rang out. "COME AND GET IT, YOU FLEA-RIDDEN HEAP OF RECYCLED TIN FOIL!" It boomed.

She looked back at the cabin.

Her dad stood in the light of the cabin's open door, with the magnet gun in one hand, a pair of chainsaw chaps in the other, and a shotgun over his shoulder. "FRESH MEAT!" He yelled into a walkie-talkie so the creature could hear him. "YOU WANT A BITE?! I'M MORE BITE THAN YOU CAN TAKE!"

The red eyes turned away from Wendy.

"Dad, don't!" Wendy yelled.

"YEAH YOU HEAR ME!" Her dad began running away from the shelter of the house, directly at the creature. "COME AND GET IT YOU CLYPE-DREEP-BACHLE GETHER-UPING BLATE-MAW BLEATHERING GOMERIL OAF-LOOKING PLOOKIE SHAN MILK-DRINKING WORM-EYED HOTTEN-BLAUGH VILE-STOOCHIE CALLY-BREEK-TATTIE! I'M CALLING YOU A COWARD! WHADDAYA THINK OF THAT?!"

He tossed the walkie-talkie aside as the creature turned and started toward him. Its antennae extended to full size and it crouched low, as it advanced to take on this new challenge.

Seeing that he had its full attention, Dan began to slowly retreat back toward the cabin.

"Dad, run!"

"WENDY, GET OUT OF HERE!" He hollered. "GO! DO WHAT YOU NEED TO DO! AND DON'T YOU LOOK BACK!"

"Dad." She gasped.

He was almost to the doorway now, and the creature continued to advance on him. It was no more than 30 feet away from him now, hissing and threatening. "DO YOU TRUST ME?" Dan called out to her.

Wendy gulped and took a deep breath. "I do." She whispered.

So she turned and ran down the road. Her lungs heaved in and out as she sprinted, and her armor clattered on her shoulders with every step, and her legs stabbed against the ground, fueled by adrenaline, fear, and rage.

Her eyes remained fixed on the road ahead.

And she did not look back.

* * *

The sun had just gone down, the woods were quiet, as Dipper pulled up the drive and hopped off his bike. He leaned it against the side of the shack, and padlocked it to a tree so that gnomes or gremlins or vampires couldn't make off with it.

Then he stepped up to the door in a quiet sort of way, while his fingers worked around his neck, trying once more to figure out how to loosen this confounded tie.

It had been a nice evening, actually.

Not that bad.

Kind of bad, but not that bad.

Pacifica had been nice. The food was weird, and the tie was awful, but the date was… Well, it was a date. And Dipper felt proud of himself just for that: _I went on a date! Me! Dipper! A real date! And she even kissed me on the cheek afterwards! How awesome is that?_

But in the end, he had an itching feeling that Stan had been right. He should have taken her to the arcade or something. Or to tacos. Or someplace where there was something to talk about besides money and horses. Maybe next time…

Next time…?

The very idea of 'next time' gave him a vague feeling of unease.

Would there be a next time? Did he want a next time?

He was confused, and conflicted, and shy. Was this how Mabel felt with Gideon? Or how Wendy felt with him? Ugh. Oh man. Either way, he didn't want to devote any more thought to this tonight. So many questions, none of the answers, and now romance just seemed like a lot of work. What was romance, anyway? He should probably look it up in the dictionary tonight, just to see if that could clear anything up.

Well.

At least he could come home to a nice, quiet night after all that. Relax, play a board game, read a book, enjoy some quality time with the family that loved and respected him for who he is. A family that didn't expect him to wear a tie, or be responsible with money, or be all proper. A family who could sit around in their own filth, pick their noses, watch crappy movies together, and just be _chill_ … That's what he needed tonight; he needed chill.

As he hung up his bike helmet, and stepped into the parlor.

Mabel was sitting in the armchair. Stanley, Ford, and Abuelita, were hunched over her and around her, watching something on her phone. All three were laughing and joking, evidently having the time of their lives. Gideon must have made a new Tent of Telepathy commercial. Or maybe it was another Ducktective behind-the-scenes special. Or something Tiger-Fist.

Dipper went to join in. But then, as soon as the family all saw him, they abruptly stopped laughing and froze. In the new silence, Dipper stopped walking, and frowned.

This wasn't normal.

"Hi." Ford announced, staring at him.

"'Sup." Stan said, staring at him.

"Hello child." Abuelita said.

"Fancy seeing you here." Mabel said, staring at him. "In the parlor. In your own home. Welcome home. To the parlor. Hi."

This wasn't normal.

"What's so funny?" Dipper asked.

"Uh…" Mabel said. "So how was the date?"

"Yeah!" Stan said. "How was the babe?"

"Sounds fascinating." Agreed Ford.

"I never shipped you two anyway." Abuelita said, and walked out of the room.

"Tell us _all about_ the date." Mabel said. "Tell us all everything about it."

Dipper stared at them for a good long minute.

"Uh." He finally answered. "The date was fine. Totally fine. Uh… She was pretty. She was nice. And the waiter was—There was a waiter, but I got a weird vibe off of him… And… Uh…"

"Where did you go?" Mabel asked. "For seafood or something?"

"Uh…" Dipper frowned at his sister. "Mabel, you already know we went to seafood. I told you that on Tuesday. Remember?"

"Oh!" Silly me!" Mabel said, bonking herself on the head. "Of course I knew you went for seafood! Ha ha! Imagine that! Forgetting what I know! Why would I ever pretend I didn't know something when I actually did know it? Where did you ever get that idea? Whoever said anything about that?"

"Umm…" Dipper frowned.

"What did you have ta eat?" Stan asked. "I heard they have that one really nice… Crabs."

"I had... Yeah." Dipper said. "I think it _was_ a crab, actually. That was fun."

"Hmm." Ford nodded, apparently fascinated. "How fascinating." He said.

"Yeah." Dipper just kept talking, hoping that somehow it would make everybody stop staring at him. "Well, the weird thing with crab is that… You know how normally when you eat meat off the bone, like with chicken, the meat is on the outside? Well with crabs the bone is the exoskeleton on the outside, so getting the meat out was kind of weird. I tried to bite directly through the shell but that didn't work. Then I tried to cut the exoskeleton with the knife, but it was just kind of a sawing motion and that didn't seem polite, so I tried slurping the meat out like a straw but that didn't really work either. And when I did get a little meat out I didn't really like the taste of it, so I just drank the water. But then that jerk waiter must have made the water fizzy when I wasn't looking. So when I drank the water… It was fizzy."

Dipper stared at the watching circle of faces. Mabel discreetly tucked her phone beneath her leg. Stan blinked. "How fascinating." Ford repeated.

"Okay." Dipper put his hands on his hips, and glared. "What's the deal?"

"Nothing!" Mabel said. "Nothing's the deal! Why would you think something's the deal?"

"What were you all watching on Mabel's phone?" He asked.

There was silence for about a second. Then everybody's poker faces shattered at once, and they burst out in a fit of laughter.

"All right." Dipper said. He rushed forward, bumped Mabel off balance, snatched the phone from beneath her leg, and darted out of reach before she could react.

He looked at the screen. He saw himself and Pacifica sitting together at a familiar table.

Ah. He understood now.

Somehow, some time, for some reason, Mabel had hidden a camera at their table. His whole family had been watching the date live. And they had seen every single terrible, awkward detail.

"Ah." Dipper grunted briefly.

"I'm sorry!" Mabel gasped for air past her laughter. "I… Wanted to help…! Matchmaker! Advice! Scrapbookortunity! Soap opera! Abuelita said I had to! But then I couldn't look away!"

"I tried to give you a conversation topic!" Ford was laughing very hard too, but managed to hold up his tablet with the alien translation. "It didn't work! I'm sorry!"

"WE PLACED BETS!" Stan howled, unapologetically. " **I WON**!"

Dipper's first instinct had been outright outrage and infuriation. But at this point, he realized that infuriation was more than he could muster. So he cut his losses and settled for minor annoyance.

What had been expecting on an awkward first date, anyway? Stan was always a jerk. And Abuelita always did this sort of thing. But Ford had legitimately been trying to help. And as for Mabel… Well… As invasive as her methods were, her motives were decent. She was just trying to be a good matchmaker. Trying to keep an eye on him. Just as he tried to do on her dates, and just as they had both done for Soos on occasion. And Soos never got angry about this sort of thing, did he?

And in the end… Perhaps he did deserve a little ridicule. Perhaps he should just let them have their laugh. Perhaps it was time for him to lick his wounds and move on.

So that's what he decided to do. This was in the past now. There was nothing he could do to fix it, so he just had to deal with the proper consequences, and try to work it all out. He shook his head and smiled just a little. "You guys." He sighed.

He set Mabel's phone down on the table and turned to head upstairs, leaving all their noise behind him.

"I'm sorry!" Ford yelled up after him.

"It was Abuelita's idea!" Mabel yelled up.

"HA HA!" Stan added. "YOU **SUCK**!"

There was nothing more to be done here.

Dipper finally gave up trying to untie the tie, and since it seemed wrong to hacksaw it off, he laid down in bed fully clothed, and pulled the sheets over him.

What a night.

What.

A.

Night.

But as you well know, the night was far from over.

He hadn't been lying in bed a minute when he heard the front door open and slam, and a familiar voice yell. "HEYHOWDYEVERYONEWHERE'SDIPPERTHEROBOTJUSTATEMYBIKE!"

That was Wendy's voice!

Dipper stood out of bed and went downstairs. "Here I am Wendy! What—Wendy?" He beheld a strange, tall figure standing in the parlor breathing heavily.

The figure turned toward him, and he made out a familiar pair of green eyes past the helmet and glasses. She took off the helmet, and smiled warmly. "Oh…" She was still gasping for air. "Hey… Hey man, you look nice."

"Why thank you."

"Wait, what am I saying?! Okay, look, so the robot lion. The mom; It's back. It's at my house. It ate my bike!"

"Ate your bike?"

"Ate. My. Bike. My dad's facing it, or _was_ facing it, but I don't know how long he can keep it there. We need to get out and help." She tossed Dipper a duffle bag. "Armor up, bro."

He opened the package and looked inside. A suit of armor, identical to the one Wendy wore, but smaller. "Don't mind if I do."

He barged into the bathroom, kicked the door shut behind him, and went to take off his shirt. The tie stopped him; he still hadn't found a way to loosen it. "UGH." He decided he'd had enough of this stupid thing. _I hate this tie! You've failed me for the last time tie!_ He pulled out a knife, and cut it off. The two halves fell to the bathroom floor, and he finally removed the suit. _About time... About time._

He stripped down to his underwear, and climbed into the armor. Wendy had packed a flannel shirt and some jeans in with it, so he was totally modest again by the time the helmet went on.

It was hard. It was bulky. It was heavy, and uncomfortable.

But it was a whole lot better than a tie.

"Did you make one for me?" Mabel was asking when Dipper came back out.

"Naw, sorry dude." Wendy shrugged. "I only have one Pines-sized brother, and he only has one suit of football pads."

"Aww…"

"Anyway! You ready?" Wendy turned to Dipper.

He nodded.

"You ready?" Wendy asked everyone else.

Ford loaded two more rayguns into his trench coat, charged up his magnet gun, and nodded.

Stanley twirled a hockey stick in one hand, and a baseball bat in the other, and nodded as well.

Mabel cradled Juan in her hands, and nodded.

Soos came strolling down the stairs in his pajamas, and stood looking at their weapons and armor. "Woah…" He blinked. "Error 404, context not found."

"Mystery business!" Mabel informed him. "We're about to roll out! Want to come with?"

"I don't know… You dawgs ain't planning on going outside, are you?" He laughed. "I just woke up when I heard the giant robot out there." He pointed to Dipper. "Ha ha! It was eating your bike, dude!"

"What?" Dipper gasped.

"WHAT?!" Wendy gasped louder.

They both hurried to the door, and banged their helmets together as they both tried to look through the peephole at the same time.

"Ow. Sorry, go ahead." Wendy said.

"Naw, you go ahead." Dipper defected.

So she did. "Oh my gosh, she followed me here!" She said. "That's the same one my dad was fighting!"

"How can you tell?"

"Because!" She stepped away from the peephole, and let him look. "It's got his chainsaw chaps jammed in its saw!"

Dipper looked. Sure enough, it had an orange pair of half-pants dangling from its mouth, and two of its five saws were tangled in the whitish fibers. Its other 3 saws seemed perfectly fine though…

"What happened…" Wendy stuttered. "What… Dad! What did it do?!"

Dipper saw the robot turn its attention toward the house. Its antennae flared up, and began to wave back and forth, as if scanning.

Dipper turned and looked at Juan. Juan was looking at the door, and his antennae were flared up as well.

"They're signaling." Dipper realized. "THEY'RE SIGNALING! Mabel, it knows Juan is in here! Toss him outside!"

"What?" Mabel frowned. "How do we know she's his mom? Did she have 'mom parts'?"

"No! Yes! What?! Who cares?! It's the real mom, Mabel! Now quick! Before she tries to come inside!"

They were too slow. A deafening noise started up, and the door began to shake. She was trying to come inside.

The tips of the mom's 3 remaining saws appeared through the wood in moments, and the rest of the door buckled and fell aside.

The mom thrust her head through the doorway, but her shoulders were too wide to fit, so she turned her saws on the wall to make a bigger gap.

This was when Wendy got her first good, clear look at its head.

It had been in a grievous fight.

Besides for the chainsaw chaps in its saws, it had an axe embedded in one of its eyes, and the other eye was flickering on and off. In its forehead were 4 large dents, which she recognized as having come from shotgun slugs.

Dad had fought it. Dad had fought it hard, beat it up, half-blinded it. But it had survived. _What happened to you, dad?! Why didn't you use the magnet gun when you had the chance? Why did you let it get so close? Why, dad, why? Are you dead now, dad?!_

The creature was almost completely through the wall now.

Ford stepped forward and leveled his magnet gun. But he didn't pull the trigger, and his eyes were saying he was having second thoughts.

"Just do it!" Stanley growled.

"Kill it!" Dipper told his great uncle.

"Don't kill her!" Mabel cried, and rushed forward. Stanley put an arm around her to keep her from moving closer. "Here he is!" Mabel held Juan out toward the larger robot. "Here's your son!"

"Dude!" Soos yelled.

Ford still didn't fire.

Wendy realized they had no time left. So she snatched the magnet gun out of his hand, and fired it herself. Mabel screamed and dived off to the side with Juan, to keep him away from the blast.

But the mother took the pulse square in the brain.

The sound of its saws, and the yelling of the humans inside, all stopped at the same time, leaving the entire house instantly silent. The mother's remaining eye darkened, and its body twitched. Then it slouched over, half inside the doorway, half out, and stopped moving entirely. They all stood there staring for a minute or so.

The only movement was from Juan, as he crawled out of Mabel's hands, ran across the room to the dead machine, and began to gently lick at her face with his saws.

"You killed her." Mabel whispered.

Wendy lowered the weapon, and sighed.

"You killed her!" Mabel screamed. "Wendy, you murdered Juan's mom!"

"Not murder!" Wendy snapped, taking a step away from the body. "It's just an animal! A metal animal at that, and it darn well had it coming!"

"She only wanted her son!"

"She was destroying the house!"

"She's innocent!"

"She chased me to kill me, she ate our bikes, she fought my dad, SHE MAYBE KILLED MY DAD, and she was coming to kill us here! Mabel, this was the only way!"

As Ford took his magnet gun back, he mumbled something about both of them being right, and something else about endangered species.

Mabel was near to tears as she stepped over to where Juan was licking the bigger machine. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry…" She whispered to him, and reached down to pick him up.

But then, he did something that nobody expected.

He sawed Mabel.

She yelped, drew her hand back, and then stood staring at the steady trickle of red pouring from her body. Then she burst into tears. "I'm sorry, Juan!" She wailed. "I'm so, so sorry!"

Stan rushed forward and dealt Juan a savage kick, which sent him smashing into the wall. Dipper was right behind him, and he pulled Mabel back to safety. Stan went to find the first aid kit. "Shoot that little one, will you Ford?" He asked.

Ford pulled the magnet gun back out.

"I'M SORRY!" Mabel wailed again, and struggled against Dipper's hold. "I didn't mean any of this! I STILL LOVE YOU, JUAN!"

Ford leveled the gun. Nobody besides Mabel moved to intervene.

But before he could pull the trigger, the room was filled with a blinding flash of blue light, and everybody recoiled and blinked at the unexpectedness of it.

When their eyes came back into focus, they frowned.

Juan had disappeared.

"WHERE IS HE?!" Demanded Mabel. "WHAT DID YOU DO TO HIM?!"

"I didn't do anything!" Ford protested. "What was that flash? Who did that? Was that one of you?" He looked at Dipper and Wendy's blank faces. They shook their heads. "No? Have you ever seen any of these animals teleporting or vanishing before?" They shook their heads again. " _Well then what was that_?"

"Geez, Ford, it doesn't matter!" Stan snapped. "That just means one less problem we have to deal with! Now help me get her hand patched up! It's… Oh, you're gonna have to look away sweety. Just look away. Does it hurt? Does it hurt bad?"

She just kept sobbing.

Dipper took a step back, realizing there was nothing more he could really do. The Stans were better at this than he was, and he was just so confused…

But then something moved in his peripheral vision. Startled, he turned and saw that the mother robot's eye had turning back on, and its claws were twitching. "Guys!" He hollered. "She's not dead! She's rebooting!"

Its whole body began to twitch. Then it slowly rolled back right-side-up, staggered to its feet, and shook its head. They leveled their weapons again, and Stan moved Mabel out of the room entirely.

But instead of fighting, sawing, advancing, or anything of the sort, the creature just looked around. Its antennae moved about slightly, scanning. When it failed to detect its child, it slowly pulled its front body out of the house, turned around, and stumbled off into the forest. It was moving slowly, and staggering, as if it had just suffered a concussion.

Then it was gone again. Gone, but not forgotten. Gone but not dead.

Not dead.

"I…" Wendy shook her head, and took off her helmet. "I'm sorry guys but I need… Get back to my house… My dad… My dad fought this thing, and maybe he died and… And… Dipper, you coming?"

"Always."

Suddenly, her phone rang in her pocket. She picked it up with a confused expression, then inhaled sharply when she heard the voice on the other end. "DAD?!" She gasped. A look of relief passed over her face. "Dad, you're okay!"

Dipper breathed a sigh of relief too. He'd been scared for her.

"Yeah." Wendy continued. "Yeah, I know, the magnet gun didn't work for us either… Yeah, I know. Thanks though. Seriously dad, thanks, I might have I died, I'm so sorry that… Huh…? Wait, if the pulse fried _your_ phone, than whose…? Oh wow. Well I suppose I would have expected nothing less… Yeah, it did follow me here. Probably looking for its kid. Ate Dipper's bike too… Yeah, like, I know! How many bikes can fit in this thing, right? …Oh yeah. Yeah, we fought it off. It's gone. Yeah, you probably did soften it up for us… We're fine though now."

Wendy's eyes swept the room, and finally met with Dipper's. "Yeah." She repeated. "We're fine."

* * *

Illustration for this chapter (replace spaces with periods):

www deviantart com/codylabs/art/FOD-Chapter-7-753373408


	8. Pancakes and Aliens

Miles from Gravity Falls, and late at night, a 13-and-a-half-year-old girl was sitting in a hospital bed, examining a mass of bandages mummifying her right hand. The wound beneath was as deep as the bone in places, and traveled up the length of one finger and across her thumb. The bandages would be there for two days, the stitches for two weeks, and the scar for a lifetime at least.

She was feeling sad, as she wondered how the wound might change her life. Perhaps she would never have a boyfriend again, because everyone who would ever want to hold hands with her in the moonlight, or sit across from her at a candlelit dinner, or bend over to kiss her ring… Everyone would see it, and think she was ugly. Or maybe they would ask her how she got that scar, and she'd have to tell them it was because an innocent baby animal hated her. Because she tried to love something that couldn't be loved. Because she wasn't a good enough Mabel… Because she failed…

A doctor was bent over her, asking how she felt, and giving her medications for infection. In the next room, her great uncle was talking with the doctor, trying to explain why a child had been left unsupervised with dangerous power tools. In the lobby, her grunkle was on the phone, having a much more difficult time explaining the same thing to her parents.

Her brother was sitting next to her, thinking over a solemn vow he'd just made: the vow to set right all that had been made wrong, and solve this mystery once and for all. It was a vow he intended to keep, but he didn't intend on doing it alone.

In a room across the hall, a gigantic, bear-shaped man had been treated for broken ribs, a trio of long gashes across his shoulder, and saw wound in his leg. He was having a rather easy time explaining to the doctor why he'd been playing with a chainsaw while fighting a mountain lion. "JUST THE WAY THINGS ROLL IN MY LINE A' WORK." He was explaining. "JUST THE WAY THINGS ROLL…"

His daughter was sitting next to him, thinking over a solemn vow she'd just made: the vow to make sure those creatures would never endanger another innocent life. It was a vow she intended to keep, but she didn't intend on doing it alone.

The night was quiet and long, and the two families spent it together, giving silent support, even when there was nothing at all to be said.

Eventually Mabel drifted off to sleep, freeing Dipper to make his way downstairs and collapse into one of the chairs in the lobby. With his mind still too restless to sleep, he pulled out Ford's tablet, and began to read through the alien translations.

-POWER REPORT:

-date: 13/20/2094-46'\

-warning: catastrophic damage

-warning: reactor 1 meltdown

-warning: reactor 2 meltdown

-warning: reactor 3 meltdown

-warning: reactor 4 meltdown

 **-warning: reactor 5 intact, safety locked**

-warning: reactor 6 heavily damaged, safety locked

-warning: reactor 7 meltdown

-warning: reactor 8 meltdown

-perpetual motion emergency generators online

-rerouting power to repair systems

-repair commenced

-date: 15/29/2094-46'\

-warning: unauthorized access

-reactor 5 safety unlocked

-warning: high risk of meltdown, do you wish to continue?

-reactor 5 online

-reactor 5 to 61% power

-reactor 5 offline

-safety lock activated

-reactor 5 safety locked

-reactor 5 intact

A few minutes after, Wendy emerged from the elevator and sat down next to him. Since she wasn't quite tired either, she pulled out an axe and a few knives, and began to sharpen them. There was no greeting between her and Dipper, for none was necessary; each knew exactly how the other felt, because they were both feeling the same things. Dipper kept reading.

-LIFE SUPPORT REPORT:

-date: 13/20/2094-46'\

-warning: catastrophic damage

-warning: primary life support failure

-warning: secondary life support failure

-warning: tertiary life support damaged

-automated repairs commenced

-tertiary life support repaired

-boosting tertiary life support

-reroute power from perpetual motion generators

-power sufficient

-life support systems functioning normally

-warning: massive loss of life

-analysis:

-cause 1: blunt force from impact

-cause 2: life support temporary failure

-cause 3: stasis system permanent failure

-current census:

-specimen survival:

-sector 01: 0

 **-sector 02: 5**

 **-sector 03: 13**

-sector 04: 0

 **-sector 05: 3**

-sector 06: 0

-sector 07: 0

 **-sector 08: 1**

-sector 09: 0

-sector 10: 0

-sector 11: 0

-sector 12: 0

-passenger survival:

 **-sector 13: 2**

 **-sector 14: 11**

 **-sector 15: 5**

 **-sector 16: 8**

 **-sector 17: 2**

 **-sector 18: 7**

 **-sector 19: 1**

 **-sector 20: 3**

 **-sector 21: 9**

 **-sector 22: 2**

 **-sector 23: 1**

 **-sector 24: 2**

-organic cargo survival:

-sector 25: 0

-sector 26: 0

-sector 27: 0

-sector 28: 0

-sector 29: 0

-sector 30: 0

-sector 31: 0

-sector 32: 0

-sector 33: 0

-sector 34: 0

-sector 35: 0

-sector 36: 0

-sector 37: 0

-sector 38: 0

-sector 39: 0

-sector 40: 0

-sector 41: 0

-sector 42: 0

 **-sector 43: 294**

-sector 44: 0

-sector 45: 0

-sector 46: 0

-sector 47: 0

-sector 48: 0

As the clock passed midnight and continued on into the small hours, the night nurse happened to pass through the room on some errand. When he saw the two teens sitting there, he paused in a worried sort of way. After considering their armor, equipment, and general demeanor, he decided to leave well enough alone, and continue on his way. Dipper kept reading.

-SECURITY REPORT:

-date: 13/20/2094-46'\

-warning: catastrophic damage

-security drone survival: 74 / 128

-warning: security breach detected in sector 2

-warning: security breach detected in sector 3

-warning: security breach detected in sector 5

-warning: security breach detected in sector 8

-warning: security breach detected in sector 43

-warning: moderate hull damage incurred in sector 43

-requesting input from security officer

-failed: security officer deceased

-automated programs activated

-dispensing drones to neutralize breaches

-sector 2 breach: contained

-sector 3 breach: contained

-sector 5 breach: contained

-sector 8 breach: data not found

-sector 43 breach: contained

-data not found

-security drone survival: 69 / 128

-data not found

-security drone survival: 57 / 128

-data not found

-security drone survival: 52 / 128

-data not found

-date: 15/29/2094-46'\

-warning: security breach detected in sector 43

-warning: security breach detected in sector 00

-warning: extreme hull damage incurred in sector 43

-requesting input from security officer

-input received

-command: neutralize

-neutralizing

-following program +8*%_!3/e^){nB-_

-warning: error

-data not found

-date: 15/30/2094-46'\

-security system offline

Somewhere around this time, Dipper's eyes drooped shut.

Ford came through even later and found the teens asleep, collapsed upon each other with their tools still in their hands. He considered the responsibility that they'd decided to bear. And although he thought they were awfully young for it, it made him very proud. And he thought they looked adorable together, so he spread his trench coat over them for warmth, and continued on as quietly as he could.

* * *

"And what did you say caused this?" The contractor asked. "I gotta put something in my report…"

Mr. Mystery looked back at the hole in the wall and the destroyed door. The workers were in the middle of cutting new planks to fit into the siding, and were regarding the damage in a befuddled sort of way. A few of them had even noticed the massive square footprints the robot had left in the front lawn.

Mr. Mystery pondered the situation for a long, introspective moment. "Uh… Beaver with a chainsaw." He finally decided. "It was pretty crazy, dawg, ha ha! That was one angry beaver, I ain't ever seen a beaver that angry… Uh… Yeah, it was also a kung-fu beaver."

His wife stepped up. "Oh, just a random sort of accident." She smiled, and gave a non-committal sort of laugh. "And you know; _never mind all that_."

"Oh, right!" Mr. Mystery laughed, and remembered to slip the contractor a wad of cash. " _Never mind all that_. Totally… I'm… Uh… By the way, I'm winking under my eyepatch!"

The contractor looked down at the cash and blinked. "Oh _yeah_." He finally grunted. "I remember _you_. You're _that_ house."

"You know what they say dawg! If you ever want some mystery, be sure to… I mean if you need a Soos… Uh…" The contractor walked off. "Ugh." He frowned. "Gotta work on that."

"You're fine, Soos." Melody elbowed him. "He's not our customer, we're his. You can ease up on the Mr. Mystery-ness today."

"Ugh… Yeah. Man, being Mr. Mystery is hard work!"

"On the bright side." Melody smiled. "I know a guy who had nothing but 'hard working dude' on his resume for almost 10 years."

"Woah… That's hardcore… Who was that?"

"That's you, Soos."

"Uh… Oh that's right, yeah! Oh wow! I forgot about that… Ha ha. Thanks, Melody dude. You… You always make me feel better…"

But he didn't look like he felt better. He still looked sort of disappointed.

"Hey." Melody could read him like a book, and knew exactly what he was thinking. "It's okay." She told him. "Nothing last night was your fault. Sometimes things happen that are nobody's fault. And sometimes nothing can fix them. Not even Soos. And giant robots and teleporting kittens and terrible dates are some of those things. So it's okay. We all did our best, and now we're all working to fix it. You're getting the shack fixed, Mabel and Dan are getting themselves fixed, and Dipper, Wendy, and the Stans are probably fixing everything else. Right?"

"Yeah… Yeah… I guess so."

"And as for me, I just fixed you some breakfast. You hungry?"

"Uh… Yeah."

"Things are gonna be alright, Soos." She took his hand as they turned for the door. "Things are gonna be okay."

* * *

Dipper awoke to find his neck propped up at uncomfortable angle. He opened his yes, and found that he'd fallen asleep sometime in the night with his head resting on Wendy's shoulder. And somehow, she'd fallen asleep with her head resting on top of his.

This didn't seem entirely normal to him, and he doubted she would like the arrangement, so he tried to untangle himself as gently and as quietly as he could, but even that was enough to wake her. Their shoulderpads clattered and scraped as they pulled apart. She blinked slowly, and rubbed her neck with a slight groan.

"G'morning." Dipper mumbled.

She yawned for about 4 seconds straight. "Hey." She mumbled when finished. "Mornin'."

Dipper checked the time, and found it was already past 9:00. "Ugh." He stood slowly to his feet, and stretched. "'Nother… Big day…"

"So it is." She grunted, and stood as well. "How, uh… How's your sister?"

"Last time I checked she was… Okay. Still Mabel… Hurting more on the inside than on the outside, I think… How's your dad?"

"Hurting on the outside, but just fine inside. They're gonna keep him a day or so I guess."

"Same with her."

Wendy looked down at herself. She was still wearing her full armor, sans helmet. Then she looked at Dipper, who was wearing the same thing. Her finger ran slowly over her axe blade as she remembered. "Crazy night, huh?"

Dipper nodded. "Crazy night."

She rubbed her eyes and started for the door. "Well." She grunted. "Your sister will be fine here with los Stanos, and my brothers are with my uncle now… So… Do you wanna head back to Gravity Falls? Grab breakfast or something? Another big day, like ya said."

"Uh." Dipper scratched his head. "Yeah…"

It wasn't until they were sitting in the cab of Manly Dan's massive 4X4, and Wendy was fumbling with the keys, when Dipper thought to ask. "Wait, do you have your driver's license?"

She paused, and flashed him her learner's permit with a mischievous smirk. "Well, of course I do!" She winked. "If anybody asks _you_ , that is."

"Naturally." He played along. "As far as I'm concerned, you're my responsible, 21-year-old aunt…"

"Better believe it. I'm the most responsible aunt you got, sonny… Hey, slap me if I fall asleep, will ya?"

"Well, what if _I_ fall asleep?"

"Oh, don't worry." She solemnly assured him. "You won't fall asleep."

Dipper pondered the significance of this claim as she started the engine. "Uh…" He looked up at her with a hesitant expression. "Have you ever seen the movie 'Angry Alex: Road Maniac'?"

She looked at him with a blank stare, and put on her helmet. "Well of course. We watch that every Christmas, dude."

He nodded, fastened his seatbelt, and put his helmet on. "YEP. That's what I was afraid of."

As they exited the parking lot, the truck hit the speed bump hard enough to get airborne.

"Geez!" Wendy grunted. "What kind of insane maniac put that there?!"

Dipper clenched his fingers into the seat as they pulled out into the middle of traffic. Somebody beeped at them, and Wendy beeped back. Then she changed lanes two at a time to get them into the turn-lane for the freeway, and cut off a fully-loaded semi somewhere in the process. Its massive horn rang through the cab of their own truck, and Dipper covered his ears.

The light turned green, and Wendy stepped on the gas, launching them toward the on-ramp. The truck's rear wheels slid sideways a little bit as they rounded the curve, and somebody honked at them again, and Dipper's fingers dug even deeper into the seat.

"You know what?" He said. "You're right. I don't think I _will_ fall asleep."

Half a nerve-wracking hour later, they'd left the freeway and the highway and the busy streets behind them, and found themselves back in Gravity Falls. Wendy slid the truck into a parking space in front of Greasy's Diner, and found a way to put it in park. Soon as she did, Dipper stumbled thankfully out the door, and placed his feet on solid ground.

She strolled on past him, twirling the keys. "How's my driving?" She asked.

He straightened himself up, shook his head, and followed her for the diner's entrance. "Uh… Actually…" He admitted. "You've gotten a lot better."

"Yay! My dad says so too."

A small bell rung as they opened the door, and a wave of greasy, fat, food smells assaulted them. It wasn't a bad smell all told, but the sheer volume and greasiness of it still made Dipper recoil slightly.

When she heard the bell, the squit-eyed waitress glanced up from her pot of coffee with an enormous smile. "Strangers! HI-I!" She bellowed gleefully. "Welcome! To Greasy's Diner! We have food! Hi!"

"Hey lazy Susan!" Wendy removed her helmet and let her hair down. "It's just us."

Dipper removed his helmet too. "Football pads. I know, right?"

Susan peeled her second eyelid open, and looked them up and down. "Oh hey friends!" She beamed, letting her eye slap back shut. "Hi! Take a seat! Right here! On the seat! Would you like food?!"

They slid into the booth, and leaned back against the stained cushions. "Yeah." Wendy smiled. "How 'bout some pancakes, and 2 coffees."

"What pancakes?!" Lazy Susan poured them each a cup of coffee, and pulled out a notepad. "A small plate, a medium plate, a medium heapin' plate, a big ol' plate, or a big ol' heapin' plate!?"

Wendy pondered this. "Uh… Let's do a medium heapin'. And could we split that between two plates?"

"Maybe! …WINK!" She scuttled off toward the kitchen.

Once she was gone, Wendy turned and met Dipper's eye. "So." She nodded. "Today's another day. What exactly does it hold? We heading out to the forest again? The… 'Forest of Daggers'? Is that what we're calling it now?"

Dipper reached under his armor, and removed Ford's tablet. He stared at it for a minute. _Should I show her? Today? Yes, I think I should. She needs to know, and we need to check it out. Today's the day._ "Actually…" He pondered. "I think I might have found another lead last night. A little closer to home."

She frowned. "Where?"

"Nope. Can't tell you here." He glanced around at the diner's other patrons, who were regarding their armored outfits with curiosity. He dropped his voice to a lower tone. "Trust no one." He emphasized. "And in fact, I can't tell you at all… This is something you have to see. I'll explain when we get there."

She held his eye, and took a long, slow sip of coffee. Then she took another long, slow sip. Then she shrugged. "Well then, you've just forced me to change the subject: How was your date last night?"

"Oh good grief." Dipper had almost forgotten about it. "Uh… I thought it was nice. I enjoyed it. But then Mabel hid a camera and recorded the whole thing… And the Stans all thought it was a riot… Which made everything about it kind of bizarre in retrospect."

"Oh my gosh. That's such a Mabel thing to do." Scoffed Wendy. "And then she didn't show _me_? She oughta be ashamed of herself."

"Ugh." Dipper shrugged. "Well, she told me the date went totally bad. But it didn't _seem_ bad at the time, so it's… I don't know…"

"Hmm." Wendy nodded. "So. Final verdict: what the heck is caviar? Is it enchiladas after all? Or is it something… Untoward?"

"Oh, it's totally untoward. Most definitely." Dipper shook his head. "I think it's _fish eggs_ , actually."

" _FISH eggs_?" Wendy squinted at him with a disgusted sort of face. "Like… They make seafood omelets? Or are they scrambled? Like a seafood breakfast menu? How big of eggs do fish even lay?"

"That's what _I_ said! Turns out they're _tiny_! Like, pea sized. I think you're supposed to eat them with a _spoon_."

"Grooooos…"

"And it doesn't taste a blasted thing like omelets!"

"Man, that's rough."

"Ugh. Yeah. I know. I don't know. I know I don't know. You know?"

She nodded wisely. "I know." She assured him. Then she glanced out the window for a moment, and drummed her fingers on the table. "So… You gonna ask her out again?"

"I didn't even ask her the first time. She asked me." Dipper sighed. "I doubt she'll do it again now, and… I don't know… I feel like I should… I don't know, maybe I should take her to the movies, or… Like… If _you_ were a girl, where would you like a guy to take you?"

A trucker at the next table glanced over at them in a confused way.

"If I were a girl…" Wendy pondered this with a slight smile. "Hmm… Oh wow, that's a toughie. If I were a girl…?"

Dipper realized what he said. "Gah! I mean! Sorry! Uh… I forgot who I was talking to… Uh…"

"I think." Wendy said. "That if I were a girl… Shopping maybe? Or to get my nails done? Or to some concert with a fabulous boy band? Or to a stupid gooey romance movie… Man, this is hard… Naw, I can't do it. Too big of a stretch. You'll have to ask Mabel."

"Why do I open my mouth?" Dipper put his head in his hands.

"We're none of us sure."

"I feel like I have to do something with her now…" Dipper continued. "I feel like I'm OBLIGATED to do _something_ , and… I don't know what that something is…"

"I know."

"…You know what I should do?"

"Heeeeck no. I mean I know how you feel. Obligated to do some weird romantic thing. I know exactly how you feel."

"Oh."

"I know."

"I don't even want to think about it honestly." He shook his head. "The whole 'romance' thing is like a different planet or something. Like, I always wanted to visit the planet, but now that I get there, I realize I'm a total alien."

"I know."

"Wait, you know how that feels?"

"No, I know you're an alien there. Like bro, _you_ wouldn't know romance if it backed over your head with a cement truck! You couldn't tell romance from the ripe end of a baboon! You couldn't pick the right girl out of a lineup of cows! You're the cliché awkward 13-year-old that _other_ cliché awkward 13-year-olds tell _legends_ about! You're BAD with girls, dude! Like, honestly, you SUCK!"

And Wendy began laughing at him; an energetic, passionate, clear laugh.

Somehow, this reached right down to the bottom of his heart, and it tickled him a little. And he started to laugh. And then he laughed harder, because he'd just been insulted, and it was the most honest, most brutal thing that had ever been said to him. And it was funny. It was darn funny.

"Ha ha. Uuuugh…" Wendy wiped a tear from her eye. "Anyway…"

She was interrupted as two plates (each containing half of a medium heapin' serving of pancakes) came crashing down to the table in front of them. "FOOD!" The waitress announced proudly, and turned to leave.

"How much is that again?" Wendy asked, as she reached for her wallet.

"Nah, I got it." Dipper reached for his own wallet.

Susan turned back, and patted Wendy's shoulder pad. "Oh, it's on the house for you two dears."

"It… What?" Wendy frowned. "Why?"

" _Never mind all that_!" Susan smiled. "WINK!" And she turned and sauntered off.

"You da girl, Susan!" Wendy saluted as she picked up her knife. "Okay." She whispered to Dipper. "Soon as we're done with these, we're heading out for wherever this super-secret place of yours is. But there better be a darn good reason for being so cryptic. You know how I feel about needlessly cryptic things."

"Don't worry." Dipper shrugged aside her protests as he cut into his own pancakes. "This is totally deserving of all the cryptic I can give it. Believe me, you have to see it to believe it…"

* * *

Now they were trudging through the trees, up into the hills away from town. "And he just GAVE you his spare magnet gun?" Dipper was saying.

"Yeah!" Wendy pulled out Ford's tool, and gave it a clever little flip. "'Ask and you shall receive', right? He said I could probably find more use for it than he did, and since Mabel took the only grappling hook, this was the next best thing."

"Huh. That was pretty cool of him. You gotten much use out of it?"

"Well… No, not really… I'm a little _scared_ of it, to be honest. Ever since that first day…"

"What happened on the first day?"

"I got this scar. Right here…" Wendy pushed her hair back to show him her ear.

"Yikes!"

"Yeah. That was the same day I promised myself I would never wear earrings, as long as I was living in the same house as one of these things. Never once ever."

"Wow. Geez, now I get why Ford told me to keep these away from Mabel."

"Oh yeah, with her _braces_? Dude, I didn't think of that! You're so right… Wait, how careful does he have to be with himself? He's got a metal plate in his head, doesn't he?"

"Yeah…" Dipper laughed. "Kind of extreme Bill-proofing was the original plan."

"Oh, I totally get that. There were a couple nights I got so paranoid of that myself that I went to bed wearing tinfoil, or a pot when we were out of tinfoil."

Dipper laughed. "Really? When was this?"

"Oh, after all your stories of Stan's innards, and Bipper and everything, and before we killed him… I didn't like the idea of that perp running around me head's private places. So… Yeah. Now you know my secret: I've worn pots to bed! And more importantly, I propose a toast to his death!" She held up her water bottle. "Huzzah!"

"Huzzah!" Dipper heartily agreed, and knocked his own water bottle against hers. They each took a drink.

They'd made it to the top of the hill now, and Dipper stopped walking, indicating that this was their destination.

Wendy looked around.

There was certainly a great view from up here. The rolling evergreen hills broken up by ridges and cliffs. The lake, the island within it, the falls that filled it, and the river that drained it. The town in the distance, huddled beneath the massive hanging cliffs. The railway bridge cresting the cliffs like a great, vague monument.

It seemed like she could see forever from up here. It was a picturesque view.

But why did Dipper bring her up here? This was a boring, unnoteworthy place. Just another plain, featureless, circular, grassy hill. There weren't even any nearby trees. Nothing at all out of the ordinary, nowhere to hide, nothing to do.

Dipper sat down in the grass and leaned back against a rock. Wendy eased herself down beside him, and they stared out at the landscape together.

Is that it? They were just here to enjoy the view? The heck kind of crappy surprise is this?

"Uh." Dipper said, and scratched his head, as if unsure of how to begin.

"Sup?"

"Well…" He stuttered. "So… At the end of the day, you're an 'adventurer' now, huh? Like Ford and Stan?"

"Yeah. 'Adventurer'. I got myself into this, and heck if I'm leaving. Just the way things fall. Kind of your same story too, right?"

"Well… Yeah. But… But why do you do this?"

"Huh?"

"Ford asked me that same question the other day." Dipper said. "And it got me thinking, because he thought I was doing all this for the wrong reasons: because I wanted recognition, or glory, or to impress my friends… Impress him… _Impress you_ … He said that I was doing all this for myself. So… I guess I started thinking, and now… It took the last night's crap to make me _really_ understand what we're doing here. I see now that it's not _for_ me. It's for everyone else… I guess."

Wendy nodded. "But it's for you as well, even when there's nothing at stake. Because this is what makes you happy. It's what you're talented at. This is you putting your all into something worthwhile. It's like _destiny_ for you, man."

"Yeah… But… Just, why are YOU doing it, Wendy? I mean, you always used to like the weirdness, and the danger, and the trouble, and all that… But now all of a sudden, you're… You're putting your all into this. You're… Awesome… I mean, you were super awesome before, but now… Now you're super awesome… I…" The more flustered he got, the more red his cheeks got. (She thought it was hilarious.) "I don't know, you know what I mean, don't you?"

"I know exactly what you mean." She thought for a minute, considering how to put this answer. "I guess." She finally decided. "I had a conversation."

"With who?"

"Uh… That's kind of personal. And it doesn't really matter. But she got me to thinking… About how I should be using my life for more than… Stupid silly crap. You know? Like, we had a ton of fun getting into mischief last Summer, and… And I've always had fun like that… And I still like that… But then I looked at how my life looked when I totally lived that way… And it was a crappy life. I was throwing away my future. I was getting terrible grades. Everybody was mad at me…" She shrugged. "I've got a particular talent set, as you've noticed. But I was using it for… Nothing at best, and evil at worst. Think about it: How did Bill get his start? Hmm? Long ago in a distant land, before he unleashed his unspeakable evil, who was he as a kid? We may never know, but imagine: was he that rebellious kid who hated authority, hated the system, hated life in general, and just wanted to write himself a happy ending? An ending with freedom? Before he inherited his power, before he burned his world, was he a Wendy?

"After last summer, that's a thought that's kept me up at night: what could I become? The talents I had, I was letting them go to waste causing trouble. Just as they'd go to waste chopping logs, or sitting behind a desk… Right? So at the end of the day, this business of ours here; this is my shot to make something of myself. This is my chance to snag a future I actually want. To do good in this world… You know what I mean… Right?"

Dipper nodded, and stared off into the distance. "I get it." He pondered. "You know, nothing says you have to keep doing this. You could… Be whatever you want…"

"I know."

"So do you… Enjoy it?"

"It's hard. It's rough. It's not easy, it's not clear. It's confusing, and scary, and painful. I kind of semi-half fell out with the guys because I don't have time to do the things I used to… And I've gotten hurt a lot. Juan sawed me once, and I tore out an earring, and a velociraptor attacked me last winter, a manotaur almost broke my arm, and I even got burned by a Molotov cocktail… This life… It's… Lonely sometimes, I guess. I see weird stuff, and have to keep secrets from my family. From my friends. Even from my diary, sometimes. Bottom line, it's rough."

Dipper's eyes fell. "You hate it."

"I love it." She corrected him. "I'm finally doing good, man. I'm using myself how I was meant to be used. I'm not being a Bill. I'm being a hero… And hey. I'm not _really_ alone. Right?" She elbowed him in the shoulder. "I've got people. The people behind me, like my dad and Ford, and now you beside me. And that's a pretty good gig, huh?"

Dipper nodded, and took a deep breath. "Wendy… Here's my thing… Today…" He spread his arms to indicate their surroundings. "The reason we're up here…" She could tell he was getting very nervous now. Nervous enough to start to stutter. "If we're really in this together… Do-do you want to be in this to-together?"

"I do."

"Well… Then…" He ran his fingers through his hair. "Um… Okay. So there's a lot of secrets I've been keeping from you."

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah. Stuff that happened last summer that Mabel and I kept to ourselves… Stuff that happened before that which Ford kept from everyone else… Important stuff. Stories. Info. And… And I know you've seen things too that you haven't told me. So… I think that if we're in this together, we need to share everything. We need to be open. If I'm gonna have your back, and you're gonna have mine, we need to… You know."

She nodded slowly. "And that's the whole point of this conversation, isn't it?" She surmised. "You want to know if you can trust me."

Dipper closed his eyes, and sighed. "Well… Yeah." He admitted.

"That's a tricky sort of thing." She shrugged. "I can _say_ you can trust me. I can _say_ I'll always be watching out for you. I can _say_ I'll never lie to you, always have your back, and keep your secrets to the grave. I can say that, but they're just words. If you're going to trust me, it's doesn't depend on words. It depends on you. So decide: Dipper, do you trust me?"

He considered this. "Yes. Yes I do…"

"Would you still trust me if I told you I have one secret I need to keep from you for your own good?"

Dipper considered this as well. "…Do you?" He asked.

"I do. I'll tell you every secret I know, except for one. But as I said, it's for your own good. For everyone's good. _Do you trust me_?"

He thought about this. "I do." He finally answered. "I trust you… But… Do you trust me?"

"I do." She promised.

Dipper considered this for several seconds.

"Mason." He finally answered. "Mason Pines… Uh, I mean… That's my real name. Everybody calls me Dipper, but… It's actually Mason."

"Mason." Wendy nodded. "Huh. Mason. Like bricks. Masonry. Mason Mason Mason… I think I like Dipper better… And… Uh… Well, my middle name is Blerble. Wendy Blerble Corduroy. Not many people know that, but now you have to live with it."

Dipper smiled. "Blerble. Why not."

"And as long as we're sharing secrets…" Wendy turned around, pulled out her backpack, and unzipped it. Then she dumped it out on the grass, and 3 worn, red, brass-bound books slid out.

Dipper froze, aghast. "The… Journals… Ford's journals…! Oh…! What?"

"Bet you forgot about these little McGuffins, eh?" She smiled.

"Huh… How? The journals were…!"

"Remember that copy machine in Stan's office? The magic one that makes ACTUAL 3-D copies? Well, Stanley made copies of the journals back when he had all 3. And he kept them just in case the real ones were taken or destroyed. But he never told anybody he made them, so when he got his mind wiped during the end, nobody was able to remind him. The copies were forgotten about completely. By the time I got my hands on them, nobody in the universe missed them."

"The… Journals…"

"We've got 'em for real. We just can't get 'em wet. I've been reading these things for about 7 months now, learning everything I can. Got 'em pretty well memorized by this point, but I haven't been able to crack any of the codes though… You want them? I know you didn't have a lot of time to study 1 and 2…"

"Uh… S-sure…" Dipper's hands shook just slightly as he picked them up. There were several moments of silence as he flipped through the first book. "Wait, you know about the magic copier?"

"Come on, dude. There was at least half a dozen of you running around that night. Do you seriously think I didn't notice? And that whole next week, where did you think all that super bland popcorn came from?"

"Uuuuuugh…" Dipper shook his head. "Uh… Ugh… Okay… Uh… Wow. Don't know what to say."

"Deal with it." She scoffed. "But since we're open now, I just have to ask: what the heck were you doing with all those clones back then?"

"Uh…" Dipper scratched his head. "I was… Oh boy… I was trying to get everything perfect, so that I'd have the guts to ask you to dance…"

"Oh." She nodded slowly. "Huh… I know I've called you a dork before, but this time I really mean it: _you dork_!"

"Ugh… Yeah."

"Did that take the first time?" She leaned in close to him. "Let me try again: YOU DORK!"

"Yeah, I heard you the first time." Dipper brought his hands up to shield himself.

"So." She sat back. "Do you still have a crush on me?"

"Uh…!"

"Hold on, you know what?" She put up a hand to silence him. "Never mind. Doesn't matter. Don't care, don't mind."

"…You don't?"

"Let's change the subject." Wendy announced. "How about… Hmm… Let's see, what should we talk about? How about why we're sitting up on a random hill in the middle of nowhere? Let's talk about _that_." The suspense had been clawing at her brain for almost an hour now, and she was eager to finally get to the point. "You said it had something to do with a new lead on the robot thing? For the life of me, I can't put it together. What is this?"

"Oh yeah. Okay… _This_ …" Dipper stood up, and spread his arms in no particular direction. "Is something Ford showed me a long time ago. This is one of those secrets we carry to the grave."

"Bring it."

Dipper turned away from her, and looked toward the town and the cliffs beyond them. "Well." He put his hands on his hips. "Those are some pretty weird looking cliffs, huh?"

She made a face at his backside, thinking this was a rather atrocious change of subject. But then she decided to humor him, and followed his gaze off toward the cliffs. It was strange, but she'd never really looked at them very hard. Never really taken them in as a whole, and considered how strange they were. "Yeah. Pretty weird." She admitted. "Makes you wonder if there used to be like… An arch or something that collapsed, right?"

"Yeah." Dipper nodded. "But either way, they're pretty symmetrical for random nature, don't you think?"

Wendy blinked. "Uh…" She looked at the overall shape again, and realized it WAS pretty symmetrical. But how did that make sense? And what shape was it anyway…?

A very odd smile spread across Dipper's face. He pulled out a keychain and held it in front of her. One of the Mystery Shack's UFO tokens dangled off the end. She looked at the shape of the token, and back to the cliffs, and suddenly it all clicked.

"Wait." She stood up now, ran her fingers through her hair, and stepped past him. "Are you telling me… That those cliffs were formed by an honest-to-goodness _gigantic alien spaceship_ that came cannonballing through here eons ago?"

Dipper smiled. "That's what I'm telling you."

"That's…" Her brain and heart both sped up. "That's… Wait a minute… Hold on, that doesn't make any sense…!" She turned on him again. "I mean, _why_ would they do that? You're saying they just came down from outer space, flew their spaceship straight through a mountain, and then flew away again? _Why_? Do they think it's fun? Did they lose a bet? Were they testing the airbags? Were they all on drugs? On what planet is it okay to fly a spaceship _that_ big when you're _that_ stoned?"

"Oh… I don't think they were stoned." Dipper assured her. "I think something was wrong with their ship. The engines malfunctioned or something."

"Oh yeah?" Wendy put her hands on her hips. "If the ship were broken, then how did it fly away again?"

Dipper smiled in a fake-confused sort of way, and cocked his head to one side. "Fly away again…?" He asked innocently.

And then Wendy noticed the hill they were standing on. And she realized how perfectly round it was. And then she looked beyond the jagged tree line, and noticed that there did, indeed, seem to be some sort of _geometry_ to a large surrounding section of valley. A geometry that was covered in trees and eons of mudslide and deposit, but still… Nearly… Perfect…

And then it REALLY all clicked.

And she remembered the giant circle Dipper had made on all his maps. And how Ford always seemed to solve problems with weird, advanced technology that nobody else had heard of. And the stories the townspeople told of alleged UFOs from throughout the years. And why the well-drilling company had said the town's groundwater was tainted with uranium…

It ALL clicked.

"Holy. Bunyan." She whispered.

Dipper smiled very broadly now, remembering when his mind had been in the same place. He pulled out his magnet gun, and gestured to the rock they'd been leaning against. "Want to help me move this?" He asked.

* * *

There are TWO illustrations for this chapter (replace spaces with periods):

www deviantart com/codylabs/art/Forest-of-Daggers-Chapter-8-753502288

www deviantart com/codylabs/art/Ancient-Secrets-724219478


	9. Echoes Underground

They descended hand over hand down the narrow rope ladder, down into the depths of the alien ship. At first it was just a shoulder-width triangular vent, barely large enough for a man to fit through. But 10 meters down, the vent opened out into a massive space, the size of a football field, if not larger. They paused to put on headlamps.

Wendy looked down.

She saw Dipper's hat and the hunch of his shoulders illuminated brightly below her, but beyond that, the distant floor remained concealed in deep darkness.

She looked to the side. Massive pillars, as big around as a bus and bulging with machinery, stretched the height of the entire place; from their level at the ceiling, and all the way down into the black.

One might suppose they were inside a factory or an engine of some sort, but everything here had a strikingly _foreign_ nature about it. Whereas human machines often consisted of flat panels, hard edges, straight bolts, and hard structure, this had a smoother feel about it. Every panel here was curved, every seam unique, every edge precise. As if it had been made by artists instead of engineers… No, as if its engineers were solving problems whose solutions required a level of artistry. As if in order to perform its function, this ship required nothing less than perfection.

Wendy might not have noticed all these details right away, but the look and the shape and the feel of the place did strike her immediately, and it told her _no_ , this was not something familiar. Neither was it natural, and neither was it human. This was, most certainly, an entirely alien place.

There was a mile-wide alien saucer buried in this very valley. And nobody knew.

Part of her was annoyed that she hadn't noticed it before, part of her was annoyed that nobody had told her before, but most of her was just glad she was seeing it at all. How many people had been let in on this secret? Ford told Dipper and must have told Stan, Dipper probably told Mabel, as he should, but… Was that it? More likely than not, she could count the number of people who knew on her fingers. Only a few people, in all of history, had ever been given this gift. And she was one of those. When she realized that, she stopped feeling annoyed, and started to feel honored.

They trusted her. Ford did, and most of all, Dipper, or rather _Mason_ , did. Mason trusted her with not only his real name, but all of this… This greatest of secrets. This treasure.

Just to stand and see it, she felt honored indeed.

She was grinning from ear to ear, and she shuddered a little bit to try and calm down. Dipper felt the movement in the ladder, and looked up at her. He smiled, and his cheeks were a little red.

Did he still have his stupid crush? She was pretty sure he did. Was he trying to impress her? She was pretty sure he was. Was it working? Well… Yeah. She was pretty sure it was.

The ladder ended on some kind of raised platform, and their feet made a deep, echoing ringing as they landed. Wendy cupped her hands and hollered "Yo, we come in PEACE, homies!" off into the blackness. The echo came back to her, from a million directions and in million ways, some faint, some loud. "homies HOMIES homies… Homies homies…" Came the distant whispers. "Wow." She chuckled, and turned back to her companion. "Hey, speaking of peace, what's there down here to worry about?"

"Sudden drops, sharp edges, bat bites…" He listed. "Oh, and armed security drones."

"Armed huh…? ALRIGHT JERKS!" She called out again into the darkness, and hefted her magnet gun. "Never mind about the peace thing! We come appropriately armed and dangerous, so you better watch your shiny metal butts!"

"Shush!" He laughed.

"All right, all right. Which way then?"

Dipper demonstrated the route down to the maintenance access level, by using the magnet gun to repel down one of the pillars. He messed up for a moment near the bottom, and ended up on his back, with scrapes on both his knees. By the time he got to his feet, Wendy had landed cleanly beside him, without a scratch. She holstered the magnet gun, and continued on toward the nearest door.

As he followed her, Dipper paused to glance back at the pillars in the enormous central room. Ford's studies had identified this place as the engine room, and those pillars as the artificial gravity nacelles. Once upon a time, those nacelles were the mechanisms that propelled the machine.

This ship had none of the clumsy baggage that human spacecraft required: no weighty fuel, no clumsy rockets, no disposable stages… All it needed was the reactors to produce its raw power, and that raw power was used to _fall_ … Imagine a mile-wide ship, held in space, falling forever. But it didn't fall downward. With its great engines tumbling the physics around it, it could fall forward, backward, sideways, even _up_ if it wanted. 'Down' was nothing but a choice to this ancient race. They'd gained victory over the very ground beneath their feet.

What tragic irony that, in the end, they'd died by impact with this very ground. They hadn't beaten gravity at all. It had come back with a vengeance, and slayed them to a man.

"Oh YEAH! Alien for sure!" Wendy announced from the next room.

He followed her in, and they stood regarding a strange body slumped over in a seat.

Most of its uniform had rotted or decayed away along with its flesh, leaving nothing more than a broken metal oxygen helmet, and a strange set of bones. Its ribs and spine looked vaguely humanoid, but its 4 arm/leg/limbs were all structured like long, fingerless tentacles. If alive, Dipper guessed it would be sort of squid shaped, and would stand… 7 feet tall? 8? Bigger than a human.

Wendy gently reached forward and removed its helmet. The head below had a long, ovoid skull, with 3 eyes, no nose, and a mouth that opened sideways.

"So rad." Wendy whispered. "But he's not made of metal… He's just a regular ol' meatbag like us… Or he _was_ , lol."

"Yeah." Dipper admitted.

"So…" Wendy scratched her head. "So where do the robot creatures tie in with all this? You said this was another lead on the whole thing…? I agree with the 'aliens did it' sort of angle, and that makes sense, but… But they're organic."

"Well…" Dipper pulled out Ford's tablet, opened one of the files back up, and showed it to her. "When Ford was last down here, he downloaded a lot of system data from the ship's computers… And I was looking through it all, and I found some weird stuff in both the life support and security logs from just after the crash."

"Woah… You can read alien-ese?"

"Heck no! …But there's an app for that."

"There's an app for WHAT?" She looked at the app's screen, and saw 'McGucket Labs' across the top. "Oh. McGucket. Okay. Let's see…" She read for a minute, then scratched her head. "Nerd is a second language to me." She admitted. "Walk me through this."

"Well…" He pointed to the screen. "Almost everything in the ship died in the crash. Most of the passengers, most of the scientific specimens… But there's a 3rd area of the ship, used for transporting 'organic cargo'. And The cargo area must have been even _less_ shielded from impact, because literally _everything_ down there died… Except…"

She noticed what he had. "Except everything in sector 43…"

"Yep."

"Meaning whatever they had in sector 43… Must have been made of sterner stuff."

"Yeah. So if they were transporting metal life… That would be the first place we should look."

"Makes sense…" She nodded, then pointed back to the app. "Oh hey, can that dealio translate _anything_ alien?"

"Yeah… Well, not spoken language, but any writing or computer code, yeah."

"Great! I found some writing on the wall back this way; see if it can decode that!"

Dipper followed her around a corner, to a wall that he remembered from his first trip down here (he'd taken a selfie next to it, in fact.) A large section of it was covered in alien writing: weird squiggles, triangles, and dots arranged in sentence sort of shapes.

"Maybe… Let's see." Dipper took a picture of it, and tapped a few commands on the tablet. " _Level 1._ " He read. " _Uncertainty Drive Engine._ "

"I'm not certain what you're driving at." She joked.

" _Level 2._ " He continued. " _Probatorium._ "

"The… Wait, what?"

"Probtorium."

"Meaning…?"

"Probe-atorium. I guess 'place where probing is done'."

She considered this for a moment, then burst out laughing.

"Well… It's only a rough translation." Dipper complained. "I guess they have a single word for 'biological study lab'. And the app translates it to probatorium because that's the closest match it has…"

"PLACE FOR PROBING!" Wendy guffawed. "ALIENS, M I RITE?!"

Dipper started laughing too.

"All right, all right." Wendy brought herself together. "What's level 3 then?"

Dipper checked. " _Level 3: - []N &8- []Y:. :+L- NYD:+L_" He tried to pronounce it, and gave up.

"What the huh?" Wendy clarified.

"It can't be translated. That means it must be a name of some kind."

"Oh. Maybe that's the passenger deck?"

"Could be. The subscript says ' _used :-Ig:ND:V, half price_ ', which sounds like it's some kind of… Advertisement for a store?"

"Passenger deck most certainly…" Wendy pondered this. "Meaning this must be a _civilian vessel…_ "

"Yeah…"

"How about this last bit?" She pointed to another patch of writing on the same wall. "This part actually looks like graffiti… Like some dork with orange blood wrote it in his own blood."

Dipper frowned. So it did. This part was faded, discolored, and written in a rough scrawl instead of carved into the walls like the others. Definitely handwritten… He angled the tablet, and took another picture.

" _Specimen has escaped._ " He read. " _Is changing forms._ "

They paused for several seconds while this sank in. Then they slowly turned toward each other, and locked eyes. "Now where does that ring a bell?" She asked, and tapped her chin thoughtfully.

"We lost sight of each other for a minute back there." Dipper whispered suspiciously. "What did you say your middle name was? I'm Mason, by the way."

She made the sign of zipping-locking her lips. "Blerble…" She nodded. "But… But Ford found Shifty as a baby! Newly hatched from an egg! Didn't that come up at one point? How is he…?"

"I don't know… Maybe… Maybe they had multiple shapeshifters in containment here and they… You know… Or maybe… Hey wait a minute, let me look at that again!" He scrolled through the files on the tablet, found the one he was looking for, and handed it to her to read.

"Still don't speak nerd." Wendy admitted.

"Okay." Dipper nodded. "So, the ship went down, most everything died, blah blah blah. But the life support broke down too. By the time it restarted, nearly everything was dead. Either from the impact, or from the life support failure. Now look at the security report."

She looked. "Ah." She nodded. "Only a few 'specimens' survived; from sectors 2, 3, 5, and 8. And all of those sectors had a breakout at the same time…"

"That's because the stasis system stayed broken permanently!" Dipper explained. "So everything that was still alive got free!"

She noticed something else. "Oh, wow. That one survivor from sector 8 sure caused them a lot of trouble… Looks like they never got it contained. And why does it say 'data not found' over and over?"

"I was confused by that too…" Dipper said. "But now I'm thinking that that one survivor from 8…"

"Oooooh yes…" Wendy nodded. " _Granny Shifter_ …"

"Exactly."

"Ooh!" She growled. "I knew I hated her snobby kid, but now I think I hate _her_ even more… She escaped, she beat up the drones, and then wiped their memory of everything!"

"Yeah… And oh! Look at this later log! It says the system started taking orders from a living officer again! Even when the first log says the officer died! That means she not only wiped their memory, but also took control of them!"

"Wow… Well then, let's check out sector 8!" Wendy bounced to her feet, and headed off in the direction of the probatorium. "Maybe there's some other dead shifters we could pr— I mean study."

The ship's hallways were winding and curved, and the rooms were rounded and uneven, as different from human architecture as could be conceived. It was almost impossible _not_ to get lost down here. Dipper tried to use his compass for some sense of direction, but it didn't exactly work when they were so near the engine room coils. He tried one of the few maps Ford had made, but those were nigh pointless as well, since the man had never bothered to explore much more than the maintenance level.

They eventually found themselves in a wide, gently curving tunnel, which seemed like it could run the entire circumference of the ship. The outer wall of the tunnel was lined with rooms, and all the doors were thick, armored, and secure. Writing above the entry door labeled this as ' _probatorium sector 4_ ', and the rooms were labeled '4-01', '4-02', '4-03', etc.

They must be in the right place.

They began peeking through the rooms, and everywhere they were met with the same sight: tubes, chambers, tanks, and crates. Some broken and some intact, some big and some small, but all were accompanied by something dead. Skeletons, bones, mummified skin, empty shells, or just stains… All of them were lying twisted and broken.

Besides for a change of skeletons, it was largely the same story for sectors 5, 6, and 7.

But when they got to 8, things got interesting. Everything here was totally ransacked, and all the tanks were empty. There were claw marks on the walls, heavy doors bent off their hinges, stains on the walls, and ubiquitous broken glass underfoot. Dipper noticed some 2-meter-wide spheres lying in a corner: broken security drones. "Woah." He mumbled. "This is the place all right."

Inside the sector 8 sample rooms, they found rows upon rows of broken, shattered stasis tanks, in a wide variety of shapes, sizes, and thicknesses. Dipper used the tablet to start translating the labels by the samples.

 _"001-Photosynthetic fungus. Unintelligent, asexual (spore capable, contained), harmless. Recovered from 4.0-134.1-46'\\._

 _"002-Parasitic fungus. Unintelligent, asexual (spore capable, contained), harmless. Recovered from 4.0-134.1-46'\\._

 _"003-Herbivorous vertebrate. Learning-capable, male, harmless. Recovered from 4.0-134.1-46'\\._

 _"004-Herbivorous invertebrate. Learning-capable, female (infertile), harmless. Recovered from 4.0-134.1-46'\\._

"Hmm…" Wendy looked over at one of the larger tanks. "How about this one?"

"What about it?"

"The glass." She pointed to the floor. "In all the other tanks, the glass is lying on the inside, meaning something broke in, probably to eat the stuff inside… But with this big one, the glass is all _outside_ ; meaning something broke _out_ …"

"Uh… _148-Omnivorous pseudo-vertebrate, recovered from 4.0 134.1-46'\\. Intelligent, female (pregnant), testing ongoing…_ "

"Ah." Wendy smiled. "Looks like we found our suspect."

Dipper nodded. "Granny Shifter."

"Naughty naughty." Wendy kicked the glass. "Look what you did to this place, girl! You're more trouble than you're worth…" Wendy looked around now, to take in the whole room. Besides for the stasis tubes and some scary-looking lab equipment, there was really only 1 interesting thing in the room: another alien skeleton, reclining in a seat, staring back over its shoulder with lifeless sockets.

In front of the body, there sat an intact computer terminal.

"Say, is that working?" Wendy asked, pointing to the computer. "Maybe there's some videos or pictures, or… Testing logs or something!"

"Worth a try…" Dipper shoved the skeleton aside, and sat down where it had been. Then he plugged the tablet into the terminal, and waited for a moment. Soon, words appeared on the screen.

-searching for network connection:

-warning: terminal not connected to network.

-view local files?

He pressed yes.

-230 data files found

-displaying:

-001: data not found

-002: data not found

-003: data not found

He began scrolling down the list. Everything had been wiped. Every scrap. There was no information on anything anywhere. But then, when he reached about halfway:

-146: data not found

-147: data not found

-148: text file

-149: data not found

-150: data not found

He clicked on 148. The tablet thought for a minute while translating it, indicating there must be a lot of language and grammar to decode. While it finished, Wendy pulled up a small stasis tube to use as a stool, and sat down next to him. Then they began to read…

-date: 14/06/2094-46'\

-Hello, Captain &:V-GN[], commander of Colonial Vessel 6.18'\\.

-Yes, I know it's you. Who else would make it far enough to read this? Who else would be so curious and so driven? You made it through the storage areas, past the reprogrammed drones, all the way up to the Probatorium, all the way to my very room! You probably even found my exact stasis tank, and now are reading this log.

-You must think you're so clever, Captain.

-But in fact, you were only too predictable.

-I knew you would find a way out of that room. You probably came out through the pneumatic cargo chutes, didn't you? Yes, all the other ways were sealed off.

-By coming here, you thought you could finally find out who and what had cornered you in there. You wanted to know what was trying to kill you, and how to defeat me. And here you are, looking at the blank files in the very lab where once they probed me. You realize now that you have been played.

-You, Captain, have always been a slave to your ego; a slave to the admiration of others. So while your friends and your crew are locked in the depths of your wreck, paralyzed with the fear of the threats beyond, who else would step forward as savior? Who else, among all the cowering men, would be so eager to prove themselves a hero, and help his friends escape?

-You want to know what I think? I think you're no hero. I think you stepped out to prove yourself, because in your soul, you know that this was all YOUR fault. Your mistakes, and your ego, have gripped and clawed at this ship, dragging it down into darkness. Turning curious minds to greed, twisting innocent missions into theft, allowing even greater evil to infect. Many things worked together to crash this ship: the planet's gravity, the anomaly, the mutiny, the prophesy, even %6[]-L:V itself… But in the end, YOU crashed your ship, Captain. You, and your evil mistakes.

-You have made several mistakes.

-1st mistake: you overstepped your mission, hoping for glory. You used the uncertainty drive to explore deeper into the past of dimension 46'\ than you had been commanded, and began to collect dangerous and various samples from ancient times.

-2nd mistake: you failed to report back with your time and location. Nobody, past, present, or future, will ever look for the vessel when and where you have wrecked it. They will never come to save you. Even if you somehow live today, you will never see home again.

-3rd mistake: you collected ME as a sample. You may have known my abilities. You may have known my intelligence. But you chose not to understand, and you treated me as nothing but an animal. Only now, when your security system turns on you, and your own classified files get wiped, and I start to write in your own language, do you start to comprehend how quickly I learn, and how well I mimic my prey. Only now do you comprehend the caliber of enemy you face.

-But you will never comprehend how much I hate you, Captain; no, it is too great for words.

-4th mistake: you did not listen.

-You should have listened to the _passengers and colonists_ , when they told you enough was enough. They told you to set down the colonies beforehand, and allow them to safely leave the ship. But instead you brought them along, and now the last will soon be dead.

-You should have listened to the _engineers_ , when they told you the uncertainty drive had been damaged in the mutiny. They told you the ship was decaying beneath you, the engines were becoming unstable, and that improbable things could start to happen.

-You should have listened to the _scientists_ , when they told you this section of the universe was converging on an anomaly. They brought this to you as a warning, but you took it as a challenge.

-You should have listened to the _nightmares_. The men would wake up in the night, screaming their fearful prophesies, of dark destiny, foul paths, and great enemies. The nightmares got more and more frequent, more and more evil, but you made yourself blind to their meaning until it was too late.

-You should have listened to the _oracle_. She spoke… Why didn't you hear? You fool, Captain! You willing victim! You arrogant stain! You irreverent mortal! You sightless murderer!

-You listened to none of them. And now, Colonial Vessel 6.18'\, your pride and joy, is no more.

-5th mistake: to escape the room you were sealed in, you unlocked the pneumatic transport tubes. By now, I will have used these same tubes to get in, and slay every one of the survivors. Your second-to-last mistake killed them.

-6th and final mistake: you activated this terminal, and read this log. It has sent a signal to the security drones, and they now know you are here. By the time you've finished reading this, they will be in the room, watching you. I do hope you're not too surprised when you turn around.

-As you now see, everything here is your fault. Every death, every destiny, every pain… It has all been charged to your account.

-Die now in guilt, Captain &:V-GN[].

-I'll see you in hell shortly.

Both Dipper and Wendy sat back very slowly.

They both glanced down at the skeleton that _had_ been sitting in this seat. It was looking over its shoulder, and they noticed that it was wearing the remains of a uniform, and that its ribs were all cracked open.

The Captain.

"Well." Dipper said. "The rest of the story just tells itself, doesn't it?"

"Say." Wendy said. "That whole kill-the-captain-when-he-turns-around program… You don't think that's still active, do you?"

Dipper concentrated very hard, and realized he could make out a faint humming noise: the sound the drones make when they hover. And then he made out a reflection in the screen in front of him: the red triangle of one of the drone's eyes.

"They're behind us, aren't they." Wendy sighed.

"Yep."

Neither of them turned around. They just sat there for several seconds, staring at the reflection.

"So… What's their deal?"

"Okay." Dipper said. "Uh… They're big flying spheres… Travel in pairs… Vulnerable to EMP… Lots of weapons… One thing you need to remember about them: they scan for hormones, adrenaline, and biological signs of hostility. If you feel fear or panic, they know you're an enemy, and attack you. If we want any sort of chance of getting out of this without a fight, we need to breathe deeply, stay calm, and control… Our… Fear!"

"Wait. Hold on." Wendy frowned. "That makes no sense!" An amused grin spread over her face. "Even if you're an enemy, if you don't feel fear, they leave you alone? That's a stupid design!"

"Not the time for critique!" He gave a worried hiss. "Just stay calm! Control your fear!"

"Control my fear?" She scoffed. "I ain't afraid of something that ignores me when I ignore it!"

"We're kind of in danger here…!"

"Why? I ain't even, like, nervous. No adrenaline or nothin'…"

"W-w-well, they could be in kill-on-sight mode since they think we're the Captian…! They could… They could…!"

"Woah! Dude, you're freakin' out on me! Just calm down; stay chill." She pulled out her magnet gun slowly and calmly, and charged it for a pulse. "We can take these guys, right? If there's just two, you shoot the right one, I'll shoot the left one. Okay? On three."

"O-okay…"

They tightened their grips, and took deep, level breaths. "One." Wendy rehearsed her actions in her mind: _dive for the floor, come up in a roll, make for cover. This would work. It would work._ "Two." As Dipper unplugged Ford's tablet and returned it to his vest, he realized Wendy was right: _scanning for fear WAS a dumb idea. Like, what if you had an agitated passenger and a calm enemy? It would annihilate the wrong one, that's what!_ "Three."

They jumped up at the same time, spun around, and fired their magnet guns.

There were 4 drones. Their pulses shorted out the first two, but then the ones behind them advanced forward, and extended guns. Yep; they were definitely still running the kill-the-captain-when-he-turns-around program.

The drone on the right fired some kind of explosive shot.

The projectile hit the computer terminal directly where they were sitting, and tore it into smoking shreds. But the two humans were no longer sitting there; they had dived for the floor, and made for a nearby rack of stasis tubes.

The next drone fired off another shot, though it exploded on the rack, and did nothing but shower broken glass around.

Seeing they needed a better angle, the drones held their fire for a moment. One began to move to flank them.

Wendy saw it coming around the right, and turned to fire.

But the drones had learned. _The hostiles are using deadly electromagnetic weapons._ They reasoned. _We must stay out of the weapon's path by any means possible. Since the hostiles have poor reaction time, we can dodge fairly easily._ So this drone darted back to cover right as Wendy pulled the trigger, and her pulse went wide.

But Wendy was learning too. _They fear the guns now._ She realized. _They respect them. I can use that to buy us some time._ Careful to keep her body hidden behind the rack, she poked her magnet gun up over the top like a periscope, and began firing it as fast as she could, hoping to hit something by dumb luck, or else just get the drones to retreat.

But the drones learned again. _The hostiles are hidden behind some lab equipment, and we have been programmed not to damage the lab equipment. But their electromagnetic weapon is no longer hidden. We can easily disable it without danger._ Several small lasers unfolded from their bodies, and focused forward. In a few seconds, Wendy yelped with pain, dropped the magnet gun, and shoved her hand in her mouth.

"What's wrong?" Dipper asked.

She pointed to the gun. It was glowing red-hot.

"Oh." Dipper held his own a little tighter. "Uh… Take mine! Keep laying down cover fire while I figure a way out of here!"

She took the gun, and winced when it touched her right palm.

"Your hand okay?" Dipper asked.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Just a little burn." She poked her head above the rack for just a fraction of a second, and she learned again. _They aren't attacking anymore. They're just sitting there on the other side of the rack. Which means they must be at a total loss of how to attack. Or maybe they're waiting for me to attack again, and leave myself or my gun vulnerable again. Or maybe… Maybe they're waiting for backup._ "Come on dude!" She encouraged Dipper. "Find us a way out of here!"

 _A way out?_ He realized he may have spoken out-of-turn. The room had only one door, and there were 2 drones alive and kicking between them and it…

Wait; they had a magnet gun! Which means they could just make their own door! A moment later, he noticed a wall panel that looked thinner and looser than the rest. Perhaps it was a hatch of some kind?

"Okay give me the gun back! I've got an idea!"

She did.

Dipper hooked the gun tightly under one arm, hooked his other arm around the stasis tube rack, dug his feet into the floor, and pulled the trigger. The tool jerked strongly in his hand, as the force beam threatened to either pull him off his feet, dislocate his shoulders, or both. He gritted his teeth and dug his fingers in, hoping that he was strong enough. But the strain lasted only a second, and then the targeted panel popped loose, leaving a hole in the wall big enough to crawl through.

The panel itself flew through the air towards him. He closed his eyes and brought his arm up to block it, but it never hit him. Instead, it stuck itself firmly to the magnet gun's tip, where it stayed like some kind of shield.

Dipper looked down at it, and realized this wasn't an entirely bad development.

"All right then…" He said. "Get behind me! We'll make a break for it on three!"

"Come on man, you got this!"

"One… Two… Three!"

The drones saw them jump out, and fired their weapons. The rounds exploded on Dipper's panel, doing no damage. _The hostiles are escaping, and using their weapon to hold a shield in place._ They saw. _So we cannot attack them with projectiles. However, they cannot attack us either… Melee is now appropriate._

The drone's bodies slid open, and their manipulator tentacles shot out and wrapped around the shield. Dipper released the trigger, and let it fall off the gun.

By the time the drones realized what had happened, the humans had disappeared into the wall, and were crawling as fast as they could up an air vent. The drones rushed forward, and reached up the tube where they'd disappeared. One of the tentacles brushed against Wendy's retreating boot, but by the time it actually curled to grasp it, they had scrambled out of reach.

 _The hostiles have escaped._ The drones realized. _We are not equipped to deal with this. What do we do now? Should we send patrols into the air shafts? Or should we resume our normal power-saving mode, now that the probatorium has been secured? What does the security officer have to say about this?_

They attempted to contact the security officer. But he'd been dead for a good long while now, and so he didn't really have any input. So, the drones automatically gave up, and decided to resume normal operations. They exited the probatorium, and fell back into their ordinary patrols.

But they remembered the two escapees. There had been a tall, calm one, and a short, agitated one. Both subjects were carbon-based, aerobic, terrestrial vertebrates. Both were of an entirely unknown species. Both had moderate speed and strength. Both were highly intelligent and dangerous. The drones assigned them both a threat level of 16, and remembered their bio-signatures. For future reference.

Dipper and Wendy kept crawling through the tunnel's pitch dark for several minutes, never stopping, never slowing.

Finally the tunnel widened out into a larger area. They stood upright, stumbled around until they found a wall, and slumped against it for a moment to rest. The only sound in the perfectly dark, perfectly still, perfectly empty space was their deep, ragged breathing, and the thumping of their hearts.

"Sorry for losing the magnet gun…" Wendy sighed after a minute or two of rest.

"It's fine… I've still got this one…"

"Okay…" There was silence for a minute more. "I guess we can come back for it some other time, right?" She asked hopefully. "After the drones leave, and it cools down enough to touch…"

"Yeah. We can stop there on our way back out. And this time, no touching the booby-trap-terminal."

"Yeah, no kidding… Say, where are we now?"

Dipper turned on his headlamp.

The light illuminated a large, low-ceilinged room filled with machinery. The wide, sloped ceiling was covered in small honeycomb-shaped tubes, which were each filled with stacks of small, hexagonal crates.

"Looks like parts storage…" Dipper said. "I remember those little crate-type-deals from when Ford and I were last down here."

"What were you doing last time? Exploring?"

"No. We were getting glue."

"…Glue?"

"Yeah."

"Glue."

"Yeah."

"As in glue."

"No… Super glue. I mean, like, ultra-glue."

"So… You were looking at your shopping list, and you were like 'okay, we're going to the mall to get some poster-board, to House Depot to get some plywood, and the ancient alien spaceship to get some ultra-glue. Be home in time for dinner.'"

"Well… Yeah… But it was the most epic shopping trip ever though."

"Mm…Okay."

Dipper rubbed his sore arms. "Are you… Uh… Are you having fun?"

"Well…" She shrugged. "I've definitely had it to HERE with killer robots." She held her hand above her head.

"Yeah." He sighed. "It's been a killer robot sort of week, hasn't it?"

"But heck yeah." She smiled, reached over, and ruffled his hair. "I'm having loads of fun, dude… You did pretty good back there."

He smiled, and re-adjusted his hat. In the dark, she couldn't see his cheeks getting red. "Yeah… You too… And… I'm having fun too…"

Then they heard a noise, from off toward the distant end of the room. The sound of something large being moved, and a stack of crates falling over.

"What was that?" Dipper asked.

"Kill the light!" Wendy hissed, and pulled him off to hide behind one of the room's pillars.

Now everything was dark and silent again. They tried to breathe as quietly as possible.

The room's newest arrival was still out of sight, but it was making a quiet, almost robotic noise as it made its way further into the room: the noise of motors flexing and whirring, and metal feet clicking against the floor.

"Aww, not another killer robot…" Wendy whispered. "If this keeps up, I'm DONE. Just DONE."

Dipper noticed something now: the room wasn't totally dark. There was a faint red ambience, shining across the walls. Now the robotic steps were getting louder, and he could see a single red light, coming slowly towards them. What had one red eye, and robotic legs? He only knew of one thing.

"Not just any killer robot." He whispered. "The lion. Juan's mom. It's here."

"What the heck?" Wendy growled. "Are you sure?"

"It's missing an eye."

"Crap." She whispered. "Crap… Okay, I'll stun it with the magnet gun when it gets close. And we make a break before it can restart. That's a foolproof plan, right?"

"Umm… I guess…? How's the charge on the magnet gun?"

She checked. "The battery is pretty good… Probably 6 pulses left in it…?"

"Okay… Let's do it."

They leapt out, and fired the gun.

The red light turned off, and the robotic sound stopped.

But then a voice rang out. "EH?" The voice asked. "Wuzzit? Howzit? Stanford? Stanley? That you?"

Dipper turned on his headlamp.

The beam of light illuminated an old man, wearing overalls, a tattered hat, a headlamp, and robo-suit pants. He was trying to move his legs, but appeared frozen in place.

"McGucket?!" Dipper asked.

"Eh?" The man squinted at them, and brought up his hand to block his eyes from the light. "Whozit? You an alien? I beg yer mercy, great sir! I's was just…"

"No, it's just us." Dipper laughed. "Sorry."

McGucket recognized the voice. "The Pines kids?"

"Yeah!" Dipper said. "I mean no! I mean Wendy! Wendy and I." He shone the headlamp around to show him their faces.

"Why were you wearing a _red_ headlamp?" Wendy asked. "We thought you were a killer robot!"

"Red light saves yer night vision." McGucket explained. "Why'd yeh think I was a killer robit?"

"Well… Long story." Dipper said. "Umm… Hey, sorry about that."

"Yeah!" Wendy said. "We're, like, SO sorry for EMP-ing you! Did we freeze your robot legs? I'm so sorry…"

"Eh… Yeah…" McGucket undid the straps on his thighs and ankles, and pulled free of the mechanism. It fell over behind him. "I kin still walk though… Wait a minute…" He looked at them, and noticed that they were alone in a dark, secluded room. "Say, were you kids havin' a roman'ic moment down here? I'm right sorry for in'eruptin'…"

"What? No!" Dipper looked at Wendy.

"What? No! We were…" Wendy looked at Dipper. "We were exploring the… Probing. Place."

"Yeah. Then we crawled through a tube and now we're here." Dipper said.

"And we were fighting killer robots." Wendy added.

"Yeah. And complaining."

"We were complaining about how many killer robots there are now."

"Yeah. There's killer robots everywhere now. And we were complaining about it."

"That's when you showed up."

"Ah." McGucket looked back at his robot-pants. "I getcha… There _have_ been a right lot of killer robots lately, ain't there? Almost as if we been stuck in some sci-fi alternate universe where killer robots are more likely…"

"Umm." Dipper said.

"Yeah." Wendy said. "Except that's weird."

"So why are you down here, McGucket?" Dipper asked.

"Ah!" McGucket smiled wide enough to show his gold tooth. "Wull! I jist got ta thinkin' about what transpirified last night with the robit-lifeforms, and figgered we needed a more surefire way to fight 'em! So I slapped together a high-penetration fusion plasma beam, but when I tried to fire it, the gull-durned thing exploded! So I figured that in order to properly bond and seal the nuclear combustion pressure chamber, I need an adhesive stronger than man has known… Somethin'… Extraterrestrial."

"Heard it." Dipper nodded. "It's purple when it's leaked and dried. Look for that."

"Good grief, it's not a spaceship, it's a glue store." Wendy facepalmed. "Captain &:V-GN[] would be turning in his grave…"

"Welp." McGucket looked around. "One a' these crates gotta have some, right? Though would you kids mind carryin' the glue for me? I'm not so strappin' without my pants…"

"Sure." Dipper said.

"And I got your pants." Wendy scooped up the apparatus, and draped it across her shoulders like an iron scarf.

"Why'd you kids say you were down here?" McGucket asked.

"Uh… We were originally down here to investigate the metal life." Dipper recalled. "You know, like Juan, that kitten-tron we showed you? And the ecosystem he came from. We think they might all have arrived on Earth aboard this ship, and we wanted to find out how and why."

"Yep. We got pretty sidetracked though." Wendy added. "But it was a pretty epic sidetrack, so no regrets."

"The metal life, eh?" McGucket nodded. "Hmm… Have you seen sector 43 yet?"

* * *

Illustration for this chapter (replace spaces with periods):

www deviantart com/codylabs/art/Forest-of-Daggers-Chapter-9-753390863


	10. The Madman's Tale

Dipper and Wendy arrived in cargo area 44, and it was pretty much how they expected.

Beyond the sliding door, they found a massive room, the size of a warehouse, and high enough that their headlamp beams didn't reach the ceiling. The entire space was filled with gigantic hexagonal crates suspended on large, honeycombed racks, with barely room enough to walk between them.

Sector 44 was a mess, same as everywhere else. But this mess considerably messier. Here, not only the small things were broken, but also the computers, the equipment, the floor, the walls, the lights… Everything was cut all to pieces. Wires and cords hung from the ceiling in tattered tangles. The terminals on the walls were totally gutted. The walls had cavities. The cargo containers were cut open, and much of their freight was spilled about. Everywhere there were scratches and saw marks.

And as for the wall this sector _would_ have shared with 43… The wall had been torn half away, and mountains of dirt and deposit had spilled through the missing half, partially filling 44 and destroying many of the cargo racks. Great tree roots, having groped their way down from the distant surface, peaked out of the mess here and there.

"Yep." Wendy nodded. "This is about what I expected."

They started to walk into the room to explore it, but suddenly something sharp caught Dipper in the leg, and he yelped with pain.

He looked down.

A large panel of the floor had been torn up, revealing some electrical lines. And out of those electrical lines, there grew a tangle of metal weeds. They were long dead, and their solar panels had rotted away, but they were still sharp, and they still stood as evidence of the type of chaos which once inhabited this room.

"Ah. Well, there we go." Dipper nodded. "There's metal _plants_ at least…"

"Ooh! _Dead_ killer robots! What a welcome change of pace!" Dipper turned to see Wendy examining a broken security drone. Strangely, this drone appeared perfectly intact on the outside. There wasn't a single scratch or crack in its shell, although the glass appeared fogged up on the inside. "I wonder what did this guy in?" Wendy wondered out loud.

"I don't know… Why's it all fogged up?"

Dipper helped Wendy pry open the drone's hatch, and they saw what had happened.

The drone had been eaten from the inside out. Although the drone's outer glass shell was too hard for saws to cut, its mechanical innards were all exposed on the inside. And all these parts (power source, weapons systems, arms, etc.) had all been chopped up or eaten entirely.

As for the trapped robot that had done the damage… It was still there. It was long dead, and mostly decayed, but it was still recognizable. It looked almost identical to Juan and his mom, but about the size of a wolf, and with more pronounced saws. Obviously still the same species, just a different breed.

"Wow." Wendy said, looking at the cat-bot. "Miserable way to go, huh? Starving to death inside a tiny glass bubble?"

"Yeah…" Dipper scratched his head. "…No kidding…"

They looked around at the rest of bay 44. There were a few more offline security drones, and a few more metal plants. Wendy put her hands on her hips. "Welp." She surmised. "It's official now. The robots are all aliens, and broke out of sector 43."

"Yep." Dipper nodded. "Aliens confirmed. Alien robots confirmed. Illuminati confirmed. Halflife 3 confirmed… Everything confirmed."

"Really dude?" Wendy scoffed. "You're memeing now?"

"Well, uh… Yeah, it just came to me I guess."

"General Pineobi." She said in a general Grievous voice. "You _are_ a bold one."

"…Is that a meme? I thought that was just a line from Revenge of the Sith."

"Everything from the prequel trilogy is a meme." She shrugged. "Anyway, back to the task at hand."

"Right." He nodded. "Right. So. They're aliens. Broke out of sector 43."

"But that doesn't really explain much, y'know?" Wendy frowned. "Like, sure they're aliens, but so what? I _still_ have a lot of questions."

"What questions?" Dipper asked.

"First of all." Wendy stuck up her index finger, as if beginning a list. "If the metal life is from HERE, how did it get all the way out to the Forest of Daggers? It's, like, 12 miles… Who moved it, and how?"

Dipper shrugged. "Maybe they took off the ceiling of 43, turned it over, put all the robots on it, and used it like a sled…? Of course, I don't know how they'd do that…"

"Yeah." Wendy shook her head. "Okay, now second question. WHY was this ship hauling a truckload of metal animals? These things are dangerous enough to eat a death drone alive! What the heck were they _thinking_ bringing these along?"

Dipper shrugged again.

"Third question." She counted off another finger. "In this ship, there's the probatorium, which is for studying new specimens, and that's sectors 1 through 12… And then there's the passenger area, which is sectors 13 through 24… But then 'organic cargo', is sectors 25 through freakin' 48… My question is: what the heck does 'organic cargo' mean?"

Dipper scratched his head. "Questions 2 and 3 are basically the same question."

"Forth question." She continued. "What caused this ship to crash?"

"Well… I don't know that either. None of the diagnostic logs seemed to give any clues… Even Granny Shifter's log hazed over the issue…"

"Yeah. Well, fifth question…" She lowered her voice. "The guy we just ran into down here… Is he the real McGucket?"

Dipper's eyes grew wide, and he looked back the way they came. "Uh… I don't know… The shifter is still in stasis in Ford's lab; I checked a couple days ago… But… Wait… Are you saying…?"

"That's _exactly_ what I'm saying. We know from her tube's label that Granny Shifter was 'pregnant', but we don't know with how _many_ … And if they all survived for this long… Or if she had a whole batch of eggs, or mixed twins or something… They could have-!"

Dipper (being a mixed twin himself) was quick to correct her. "TMI!"

"Yeah, yeah, sorry… Just had to get that out there, though… There _could_ be hundreds of them, dude. Cross our fingers and hope our mutual friend was a single child… But just saying."

"Okay… Well… Well… If McGucket _is_ the shapeshifter… Or _a_ shapeshifter… It's certainly done its reading, much more than last time… It knew Stanford and Stanley were routinely down here… It knew that we confronted the metal life yesterday… It knew McGucket's taken to building himself robot trousers… Heck, it even knew he uses the word 'scrabdoodle'!"

"Yeah, but… But…" Wendy said. "Okay, now I've got me paranoid: what's your name?"

"Mason. Middle?"

"Blerble."

They both sighed.

"Can't keep doing this." Wendy said.

"Yeah." Dipper agreed. "Not knowing who to trust."

"Totally."

"…Let's rendezvous with McGucket." Dipper decided. "Then head down to the engine room and download more data for Ford… See if we can find any more clues about the crash… Then we get the heck out of here."

"Okay… And when we leave, let's head straight to McGucket's mansion, and see if he's there too. If he is, that means he either has super-speed, or this one is a fake… But for now, we just keep an eye on him, but don't give him a single hint that we suspect him."

"Good idea."

"Yeah."

"Yeah."

Twenty minutes later, not far from the blocked 43 entrance, they came around a corner and ran almost straight into the old man himself. He seemed to have changed significantly in the hour since they'd seen him; and not in a good way. It wasn't his body, number of limbs, or eyeballs that had shifted, it was his mannerisms: he had an insane look in his eye now, a shaking in his hands, and he was on the verge of complete panic.

"EGAD!" He screeched when he saw the teens. "I don't—I GEE! I WUZZIT?! Who-who-who… Are yeh youuuu?!" To their surprise, he reached into his overalls and pulled out an impressively large ray gun.

"WHOA!" Dipper yelped, fell on his butt, and raised his hands in surrender.

"Calm down there, bucko…" Wendy took a step back, and raised her hands too. "Whaddaya mean?"

"I saw… I saw…" He reached into his overalls again, and pulled out a beefy, steel computer. "I saw words!" He turned the screen toward them. "Words on a wall! Written in blood!" He explained, and read. " _Loose mimic outside sector 8… No one to trust!_ That's what it said, an' I know it's true! 'Cause I done seen one! Years ago in Ford's lab, an' it mimicked PEOPLE! How do I know ya ain't 'em?!"

Dipper and Wendy looked at each other. "We were about to ask you the same thing…" Dipper said.

McGucket gasped for air, and his eyes seemed to bulge out of his head. "I can't… I'm the one doin' the talkin' and the askin' here, Barney!"

"Barney?" Wendy asked.

"Same gits fer you, Betty!" McGucket took several steps back, and his fingers closed around the trigger. "Yeh aliens… YEH ALIENS! Just up an' give… Gimme my robopants and glue back!"

Wendy set the pants on the ground, and kicked them over without a complaint. Dipper did the same for the crate of adhesive.

"An' raise yer hands!" McGucket yelped, as he reached down to put on the robo-pants (he seemed to have forgotten that their computer was still fried).

Dipper and Wendy didn't move.

"AH SAID RAISE 'EM!" His gun was shaking as he gestured to their hands.

"Umm…" Dipper looked up at his raised hands. "They _are_ raised…"

"ALL OF 'EM!" McGucket was close to tears. "I kinuht deal with yer alien ways! Raise all yer other weird appendages and doohickies and thingums!"

"Dude." Wendy told him. "Calm down."

"YE ALL CALM DOWN!"

"McGucket, you're not thinking clearly." Dipper said, and took another step back. "We don't have any more limbs to raise. Slow down…"

"Take a deep breath…" Wendy added.

"I'M WARNIN' YEH!" McGucket's shaking hands pointed the ray gun downward, and released a shot into the floor between them. The passage was instantly lit up by a bright green explosion, and a permanent mark was burned into the metal.

"WOAH!" Dipper jumped.

"GEEZ!" Wendy gasped.

"I'M SERIOUS!" McGucket yelled, and pointed the gun back at them. "I'LL SHOOT YEH ALIENS! GET OUT OF HERE! GO ON! GIT!"

"Okay." Wendy said. "You win. We'll git." She began to retreat, with her hands still raised.

"STAY WHERE I KIN SEE YA!"

"Okay." She complied.

"Can we talk about this?" Dipper asked.

"NO, SHUT YER WORD-HOLE! YER GIST TRYIN' TA TRICK ME!"

"Okay. We'll be quiet then." Dipper agreed.

"WON'T TALK? I WANT ANSWERS! START SINGIN', BARNEY!" He pointed the gun at Wendy.

"What do you want?" Wendy asked.

He was crying now. "I wanna know me friends are safe…! What'd ye do with me friends…? Yeh blasted aliens…"

"We _are_ your friends." Wendy said. " _We're human_."

"Human." Dipper reached into his pocket, pulled out his knife, and made a small cut on the end of his finger. "Red blood." He winced, and tried to remain calm as he showed McGucket the bright fluid. "Human."

Wendy pulled out her own knife, and cut her own finger. "Red blood too." She repeated, and showed him. "I'm human too. We both are."

McGucket stared at them. "Yeh…" He sobbed. "Yer real…?"

"We are. We're your friends." Dipper said, pressing his self-inflicted injury into his vest to stop the bloodflow. "…We remember. Remember when we took down the blind eye together? We fought together with Soos and Mabel…"

"Soos…?"

"The fat one." Dipper reminded him. "He taught you anime, remember? And found the dinosaur for the shack-tron?"

"Eh… Uh…"

"And Mabel." Wendy said. "The lovely little girl who made us all sweaters? Remember her? _We_ remember her too. Because we're _real_. _We know each other_. We're your _friends_."

"We're your friends, McGucket." Dipper said. "We're real."

Slowly, a light seemed to dawn in the aged inventor's eyes. The ray gun finally slipped from his fingers, and clattered noisily to a stop on the floor. Then he fell to his knees, clutched his heart with one hand, his head with the other, and began to weep.

"Me BRAIN!" He cried. "Me poor brain! I'm so sorry…! I'm so so sorry… I gist can't even trust me own brain…" He gasped. "Me brain told me ta shoot ya! It told me… It told me ye weren't who ye said… It told me yeh were in grave danger… Hurt or dyin'… Yeh gotta un'erstand, I been havin' odd nightmares… An' they play with the little scraps of memories I can't remember, an' the gaps I haven't filled… People mention things I don't know, and tell me I was there… An' people I care about seem ta die… Or do they…? Maybe that's just the nightmares too… I don't know, I gist don't know… I'm so sorry… I'm SO SORRY!"

Dipper breathed a sigh of relief, and shared a glance with Wendy. "It's okay." Dipper told the old man. "It's okay."

"We forgive you." Wendy said.

"I thought I fixed ye stupid gull-dang thing…" He pounded his skull with both hands. "Now yeh go an' break again… Come on brain, yeh kin do it… Yeh kin do it… Just a few more decades, brain… Then yeh kin die and take a breather on God's golden shore… But ye'll get someone killed before then… Lord have mercy, ye'll get someone killed…" And he kept crying.

"Come on man." Wendy walked up to him, grasped the straps of his overalls, and lifted him to his feet. "It's okay. We just have one more stop, and they we're _out_ of here, dude. This place is bad on the nerves anyway. Nobody should be down here alone… (Dipper, grab his blaster, will ya?)"

Dipper picked up the ray gun.

"Yeh… I never will again… Never again…" McGucket promised. "I'm so sorry for almost shootin' you fellers…"

"Let's talk about something else." Dipper suggested. "How about sector 42? What was in sector 42, Dr. McGucket?"

"Eh… In 42… In 42, there was a dang-blasted enormous computer in storage… And some organic cargo that looked like mice… All in giant shippin' containers… But… Everything was a mess."

"Describe the mess. What did it look like? What caused it? Come on man, you can remember."

"The…" McGucket hesitated as he thought. And as his mind drifted away from dark paths and back to the familiar grounds of science and technology, he seemed to relax. His shoulder's lost their tenseness, and his breathing came easier. "All organic bodies in storage perished during the initial crash." He began. "But when the metallic creatures breached the bulkhead into 42, they ignored any organic matter and started to attack the computer in storage. They consumed the main processor and solid-state data core first, making special preference to silicon chips and copper wiring, likely to supplement the iron and titanium diet easily acquired from the main hull. The security system attempted intervention, but was treated with extreme hostility. Several containment drones were disabled when captured subjects dug into their primary static-energy power core, although their saws were unable to mar the external silicate shell…"

"Hey, see?" Dipper said. "Your brain's still fine, McGucket!"

"Eh…?"

"Yeah!" Wendy said. "Were you just listening to yourself talk, dude? You know science and robots better than anyone on the planet! You're still smarter than all of us, man! Where would we be without you?"

"Don't be ashamed of your brain." Dipper said. "You've got the best, McGucket."

"But… But I still feel crazy sometimes… And I thought I fixed my brain… I guess… I guess it don't take much ta break it again…"

"It's fine, man." Dipper told him. "I get it… Sometimes… Sometimes it seems like my body turns against me too."

"Yeah, it does." Wendy vouched for him. "His body turns against him ALL the time. He gets all itchy and sweaty just randomly." Dipper frowned at this. "But it's alright!" Wendy continued. "That's what friends are for! To make up for what we don't have. To be strong when we're weak. Right?"

"Aww… Thanks guys." McGucket nodded. "Thanks… Thanks fer lookin' out for me…"

"You're a friend." Wendy said. "And that don't change."

"Never." Dipper promised.

"Never…" McGucket rubbed his eyes. "Thank yeh. Thank yeh both…" And then, pulling his resolve together, he started down the passage back toward the engine room.

Once he'd gone on ahead outside whispering range, Wendy hissed down at Dipper. "I don't know… Think he's a shifter or not?"

Dipper watched their old friend for a few seconds longer. "…No…" Dipper answered. "He's good."

* * *

They reached the engine room.

"Ah! Ain't she just a fine machine?" McGucket asked, gesturing to the massive pillars. A smile spread across his face, as he imagined this ship as it would have been in its glory days. "These engines kin play with gravity, play with physics, play with probability… My, it could get yeh gist about anywhere in the ol' milky way in just a couple months, I reckon… Quite a fine piece a work, eh? I gist wish I coulda seen her in 'er prime…"

"Well…" Dipper recalled one of the logs he'd seen the previous night. "You think you could get it working again?"

"Eh… I don't know…" McGucket scratched his head. "I been a peakin' and a ponderin' this place fer a while now… An I think some of the engines might still be intact… But reactor 5 is the only primary power source left even close to intact, and I can't figure how to work it… Ah well. Some other day, perhaps." McGucket reached into his overalls and pulled out a homemade harpoon gun, so to climb back up the engine room to the ladder.

"Uh, actually…" Dipper put a hand on his shoulder. "When Stan and Ford were down here a couple days ago, they actually _found_ a working control room… That's where they got the data for your app! Wendy and I were going to get some more data… Maybe you'd like to see it? There could be a way to operate the reactor from in there…"

"Eh… Uh… Sure. We kin give it a quick lookie." McGucket put away the harpoon, and followed them away from the ladder, and down deeper into the ship. They squeezed their way beneath the pillars, into, between, over and under some other machinery, and finally found themselves at an absurdly thick pair of blast doors. Wendy stuck a piece of alien metal into the crack, and levered it open. Then they turned on their flashlights to see past the darkness, and took a step through.

Dipper stopped after this first step, half in bewilderment, half in horror.

This really didn't look like a 'control room' at all; it looked like a scene from a haunted house. There were alien bodies everywhere, all lying in various positions of pain, panic, or grief. But strangely, none of them were rotted. They weren't skeletons, like there were elsewhere in the ship. These ones appeared _mummified_. Dried, flakey, shriveled, but WHOLE… As if they were instantly sterilized as they died, or as if they died by intense heat… Odd indeed… Dust and ash filled the room's air with a dry, thick taste, and Dipper wondered if they were even getting enough oxygen.

As if the bodies weren't enough, the screens, levers, knobs and buttons on the walls were almost entirely obscured by _chaos_. This chaos took the form of smears and stains and dust and scratch marks, but most of all, there was the graffiti. Every available surface was sloppily scrawled over with these various paints, in every conceivable color, size, and font. None of them were neatly written or orderly, and the handwriting was of a quality usually reserved only for distracted toddlers. It would be mesmerizing, if a train wreck was mesmerizing.

"OH MY!" McGucket put his hands to his head when he saw the bodies and graffiti, and turned to Dipper and Wendy with a horrified look. For a moment, he seemed as petrified as the bodies. "First time I ever been here… An… Oh my…"

"Yeah. Don't worry." Dipper said. "Everything's dead… Been dead for a long, long time. They probably wouldn't even make good _zombies_ at this point."

"I… I know... But…" McGucket said. "I can feel it…"

"Feel what?"

McGucket choked slightly. "Madness." He whispered.

"Ooh." Wendy frowned.

Her and Dipper's eyes traveled up to the graffiti on the walls, suddenly curious.

"I can't do it…" McGucket whimpered.

"Can't do what?"

"Can't take another step into this room…" His hands began to shake, and he pulled his computer out and handed it to Dipper. Then he pointed to the terminal at the far end of the room. "You have to download the data… I can't… I… I have to wait outside…"

Dipper nodded, and began to step his way over the bodies and toward the back of the room.

As for McGucket himself, he left them there and rushed out. When he was alone, he knelt down on the metal floor, and began to pray earnestly for mercy. For he didn't want to stand around and read words written in blood. He didn't want to examine bodies, or poke and prod at buttons. He felt a darkness here. Some kind of evil, lurking to break into his soul. It was a feeling that seemed familiar from somewhere, although he could no more place the memory than he could explain it. All he knew was that he wanted to flee from it. He had had enough of this ship, and he wanted to get _out_. Get out immediately.

Back inside the control-room-turned-tomb, Wendy held up the tablet, and began to translate the graffiti. Dipper left the computer plugged into the terminal, and joined her to read:

 _-Every night I see it. Every day I live it: the pain the child of our greed will birth, as it lashes out indiscriminately at man, woman and child. Surely, some mortals are doomed sooner than others._

 _-For the wild men, for the reckless men, for the trapped men, for the hungry men; there now sits an advocate. He comes with glad tidings of doom and despair._

 _-All your sins lay naked before her. She sees your rotten center._

 _-All is meaningless under the sun. Soon it will end beneath the Earth._

 _-The Captain was told exactly what he wanted to hear._

 _-Terror levels holding at 39.72%. Projected 65.21% when they realize the nightmares are true._

 _-She completely eradicated them. Except for a juvenile, which followed after her like a confused child…_

 _-They cut down the tree, and it fell into ice._

 _-There is a friend who sticks closer than a brother. Kill him before he kills you._

 _-Your child the monster will kill them all. Sacrifice yourself to sacrifice it to save them, why don't you?_

 _-Last night I dreamt of fools. They misused the ship, and it became their tomb. Do you ever get the creeping feeling that they're you?_

 _-The prophecy seemed far away, but finally we've reached the day. Give up the past. Embrace the strange. Everything you care about will change._

 _-ƉN::ᶌ and Ɖg }Nᶌ will be here._

They read carefully through these translations. And then read through them again.

"Man." Dipper said. "Why do prophecies always have to be so vague?"

"I know, right?" Wendy agreed. "I feel like I'm reading evil fortune cookies… Why did they even write this stuff down?"

"Well." Dipper guessed. "Granny Shifter's log mentioned an 'anomaly' in the universe… And now here, we can see that the crew was starting to have… Prophetic, weird nightmares… And when you consider that all this happened a real long time ago… I think our suspect list is pretty short."

"Hmm…" Wendy nodded, and a smile spread across her face. "You're right." She said. "I guess there's really only one guy that… _Fits the Bill_."

Dipper pondered this pun for several seconds. Finally, he nodded, and said. "That pun was _terriBill_."

"Oh… _Bill_ me later."

"I suppose I'd better _Billd_ up a tolerance."

They both guffawed.

"Oh, too much… Anyway…" Wendy pointed at a few of the scribblings. "These just _sound_ like 'wil ol' Billy, don't they?"

Dipper laughed. "They do, don't they? That whole ' _glad tidings of doom and despair_ ' especially… Just his type of humor…"

"Yeah… And that ' _embrace the strange, everything you care about will change_ '…" Wendy laughed when she said it outloud. "Man, check it out: it RHYMES when you translate it into English! _It's like he knew we would find it one day…_ "

"Woah, it DOES rhyme! Soooo creepy…"

"MAN I'm glad he's dead! That was one twisted little nacho chip."

" _Agreed._ " He nodded.

The computer chimed.

"Oh hey!" Dipper jogged over to it. "The download's done!"

He began to sort through the files. All the logs and data records seemed very neatly organized and categorized… All except for one. One file was separate from all the rest, as if it were added to the system later. He opened it.

 _\- My name is C*:C2M]~, and I am the last sane Engineer._

"The first and fourth letters of his name look a little like 'C's." Wendy said. "Let's call this guy _Dr. Chuckles_."

"Fair enough." Dipper agreed.

 _-After the crash, we barricaded ourselves in here, to try and keep out the radiation from the meltdown. If we open the doors, we die. If we keep them shut, I guess we just die slower. But in the end, the radiation is the least of our worries; instead, we fear the deeper things we cannot see: the bloodbath in the mindscape… My name is C*:C2M]~, and I'm sure that I'm the last sane Engineer._

 _-I'm not sure why the engineering team was affected so badly by the mind event. Maybe it's our work so near the malfunctioning uncertainty drive; all kinds of improbable things start to happen around it. That machine breaks and reforms reality when it's working RIGHT… I'm not qualified to even SPECILATE what happens when it's working WRONG… I think this darkness might get very… Very… Interesting. My name is C*:C2M]~, and I'm reasonably confident that I'm the last sane engineer. At least the only one who can still write such lengthy notes…_

 _-The men started having nightmares 63 days ago, and since then they have proven prophetic. They predicted the crash, they predicted our imprisonment in the control room, they predicted the Captain's error… They even foreshadowed our own madness. All this means that we're somehow in communication with something we don't understand… Something highly… Weird. It may be improbable enough for the uncertainty drive to manipulate. Problem solver that I am, I will see what I can do against this weirdness… My name is C*:C2M]~, and I think I'm the last sane engineer… I honestly feel fine except for the extra eye growing inside my skull; the one looking inward…_

 _-Based on readings from the sensors and from the nightmares, I can only conclude that we are in a most dire situation:_ _A time anomaly will exist in the future. For reasons I can't imagine, the local region on this planet seems to possess a potent improbability field, and this field will one day allow an enormous time-space paradox to achieve potential here. If left unchecked, or uncontained, this disruption could result in an ZK end-of-the-universe scenario, or at least a YK restructuring-of-reality scenario. Time readings seem to strongly indicate that the anomaly is intelligent, and certainly foreign to this dimension… I think I now have enough data to reprogram the uncertainty drive into a prison for our new god. The perpetual motion emergency generators will be able to keep it running until long after me… If I don't take the deal, that is… My name is C*:C2M]~, and I might be the last sane engineer…_

 _-But now I wonder: why would I activate the containment field? The anomaly is either trying to warn us… Or taunt us… Or humble us… Or overpower us as a god… I, for one, think it must be a jolly good friend… A most trustworthy individual… My muse has only ever told the truth… Why would I sleep when I can dream standing up? My name is C*:C2M]~, and I could once have been the last sane engineer…_

 _-I dreamed an abomination of warping flesh was loose in the rest of the ship, sent to cull the unfaithful. However, I'm glad that ƉN::ᶌ and Ɖg }Nᶌ will be able to outsmart it. I'm sure they will be arriving soon… In fact, I foresee that they're arriving NOW. Forget radiation; I think I'll open the door, let them in, and introduce them to our friends! My name is C*:C2M]~, and I don't quite believe in sanity anymore… What do you two think?_

"Huh." Dipper said.

"Huh." Wendy said, and shook her fist angrily. "BIIIIILL…!"

"Wait." Dipper frowned. "That's not the end of the file… There's more…"

 _-To whom it may concern: This is ƉN::ᶌ and Ɖg }Nᶌ._

 _-We came to this control room to permanently deactivate the ship, and remove the power control couplings for reactor 5 (so that its abilities and technology couldn't become a weapon for our enemy, as the drones have.) However, we found the engine room exactly as you see it: C*:C2M]~ and his colleagues perished in a twisted sort of way. We don't know what happened here, or what sort of external enemy or anomaly caused the disabling of their minds. However, it seems that, before he perished, C*:C2M]~ reprogrammed the uncertainty drive to combat this enemy, although he never activated it._

 _-We have activated it._

 _-I don't know who would be reading this. But it doesn't matter, the same applies: if you are in any way qualified to understand the anomaly, or how better to deal with this extreme threat, please come and talk with us. By now we will have fortified ourselves at the coordinates 156.33/27.81. If you require our help, or if you require the power control couplings for the last reactor, you know where to find us._

 _-Keep the uncertainty drive field active._

 _-ƉN::_ ᶌ _and Ɖg }N_ ᶌ _were here._

"Betty and Barney again?" Wendy scoffed. "They sure get around, don't they?"

"Wait, hold on!" Dipper scratched his head. "How did Betty and Barney get past the radiation? It was enough to fry everyone else instantly…"

"I don't know, but check it out!" Wendy said. "The field must have been what kept Weirdmageddon from going global! I guess a lot of people owe Dr. Chuckles their lives…"

"No, they owe _Betty and Barney_ their lives." Dipper corrected her. "Dr. Chuckles was just a nutcase! I mean, did you listen to his ramblings? This guy went insane, started to think Bill was a friend, and then fried everyone! Like, seriously! This guy was bonkers!"

"Ha ha! Totally!" Wendy laughed. "At first he was all like 'I'm the last sane engineer', then he was all like 'I _think_ I'm the last sane engineer', and then he was totally off the brink, and was all 'screw sanity, I feel like a tan!'"

"Ha ha! Yeah…! Ranting and raving with the worst of them…"

"Just writing down more nonsense fortune cookie prophesies…"

From outside the control room, McGucket's voice rang out. " _You kids think right hard about it!_ "

Thinking their elder might be in trouble, Dipper and Wendy rushed out of the control room to come to his aid. But he wasn't in trouble. He was just sitting on top of a large pipe, hugging his knees, rocking back and forth on his backside.

"Think right hard about it!" He repeated, turning to them. "Y'all've stumbled into matters too great for ya, hear?! Insanity? Brain demons? Suicide? Prophecy? These are too dark for you kids!" He shook a finger at them. "You don't understand them yet! I hear y'all laughin' and jokin' and pokin' fun in there, but these AIN'T LAUGHING MATTERS! Prophecy ain't for laughin'. Bill ain't for laughin'. Madness ain't for laughin'. And most of all, those scriblin's ain't for laughin! Yeh should stay warry and aware! Because who knows? _If thems really was prophecies, perhaps some of 'em were written fer YOU!_ "

He stood up, and took a step towards them. "Kids, you're right to be _afeared_! Listen to me, because when I was younger, I pursued these very things too deep! I took a step much too far! I dipped my mind in places no mind should be, and I uttered a prophecy of my own that day! I said ' _When Gravity Falls and Earth becomes sky, fear The Beast With Just One Eye!_ ' I said that! I don't remember how or why, but I did! Yeh kin laugh at how vague it is, yeh kin laugh at how silly it sounds, but yer laughin' don't change that these are words to be heeded! Don't you dare laugh at the mad alien engineer in there! Because if you laugh at him, you laugh at everybody else who ever tried to warn you! You laugh at everybody else who ever made a fool of themselves just trying to do right! You laugh at everyone who fate ever drove off the edge! Everyone whose precious brain was ever snatched from them! Everyone who died not understandin' themselves…"

He shook his head. "That man didn't do nothin' funny… That man didn't do nothin' wrong… Ain't his fault what happened, but… But he done the best he could… Eh… Kids, don't laugh at the madman. The madman's just like you 'er me, 'sept he don't know what he doin'… Kids, you know me… I was the madman once… I un'erstan' the madman…"

McGucket walked back to the control room, took a few trembling steps inside, and located the alien closest to the door: the one that had opened it, and let the radiation in. McGucket took off his coat, and laid it over this alien's face. Then he bowed, closed his eyes, and crossed himself. "I respect the madman…" He said.

And they became a little sadder, and a little wiser.

* * *

The humans finally saw fit to leave. They crawled back up through the machinery, grappled back up the wall to the ladder, and ascended.

Soon they were standing in the light again. Wendy stood up, stretched her aching back, and took a deep breath of the fresh Summer air. McGucket blinked a few times as he adjusted to the sunlight, and listened to the chirping of birds. And Dipper cast one last look at the dark hatchway in the ground, and considered the ancient labyrinth below. Call it what you will: a shipwreck, an ancient secret, an alien saucer, a tomb… But the truth remains that there was a darkness there. He'd taken Wendy here on a whim, and now he saw his error: this wasn't something to treat lightly. Never again would he go in without purpose.

Wendy's mind, a little boggled and overwhelmed by the events of the day, just decided to enjoy the summer air for a while. She breathed in through her nose and out through her mouth, and felt thankful that she lived on such a beautiful planet as this. Such a beautiful day, wasn't it? _Too bad the Captain and Dr. Chuckles and Betty and Barney never got to enjoy this planet. Too bad all they ever saw was the inside of that rotting, derelict husk of their vessel. Earth is nice… I'm sure they would've enjoyed it…_

"Wait a minute!" Wendy said, turning to Dipper. "Betty and Barney said they were leaving the wreck, right?"

"Yeah, to set up 'fortifications'…" Dipper remembered. "They gave some coordinates…"

"And those coordinates…" Wendy asked. "Where do they lead?"

Dipper did some quick calculations in his head, to convert the alien coordinates to human ones. "Uh…" He answered. "Not far… Wait a minute…" He pulled out his map, traced across a few lines, and his finger landed right where he'd hoped: the red outline he'd drawn to represent the Forest of Daggers. The coordinates led to somewhere inside.

"Well." Dipper said.

"Well well well wellwellwell…" Wendy agreed. "Betty and Barney are now officially the most plot-relevant vandals I've ever met."

* * *

Mabel came trudging up the stairs to behold an empty bedroom.

This struck her as odd. Shouldn't Dipper be here to welcome her home from the hospital…?

Suddenly she remembered her phone. It had rung earlier, and that must have been Dipper. Her phone had been in her right pocket though, and since her right hand was covered in a bandage, she hadn't been able to answer. Now, she realized she could just reach over with her left hand. "Silly Mabel!" She laughed at herself. "All pockets are for all hands! This is a non-discriminatory, hand-inclusive environment."

She reached her left hand into her right pocket, and pulled out her phone. It was a group text to her, Stan, and Ford.

 _-Wendy and i r going 2 explore CSO for clues._

 _-Will b careful_

 _-If not home by 6:00, come with guns!_

She glanced at the clock. It was 4:30. Then she racked her brain. _CSO…? What did that stand for? Cookies So Owesome? No, awesome has an 'A'… Crowded Soap Opera? No, Soap Opera wasn't Dipper's thing… Cop-Summoning Octagon? Why would an octagon summon cops? Crazy Soup Orangutan? She'd always wanted one of those, but why would Dipper go to one for clues…? No wait! That's it! Crash Site Omega! The alien spaceship Ford found! That was it!_

Well, she hoped they were having fun. Half the movies that he and Wendy watched had alien spaceships, right? That must mean they thought they were cool, right? Maybe they even thought they were romantic… Maybe they would get in a relationship! No, Dipper already had a girlfriend… Well maybe he could dump her? It wasn't working out so nice anyway… Oh, whatever.

Waddles came up behind Mabel and nuzzled her ankle. She bent down to hug him, and her mind drifted back to Juan, her mysteriously-teleported-away-and-now-missing pet. The little robo-kitten that had been such a dear part of her life this week… Only to have his own mom show up as a total jerk and try to saw down the house… And then the whole thing where they shot the mom and Juan thought she was dead, and then Juan sawed Mabel, got kicked by Stan, and disappeared in a flash of light…

 _Where are you now? Who took you away? Is your mom okay? Would he ever forgive us for how we treated you? Could you ever love me again? Juan, if only you knew I forgave you…_ She glanced down at her bandage. _I don't hold this against you…_

As if in response to her thoughts, she heard a small scraping noise coming from her bed.

Her and Waddles both froze, and looked at the source.

Juan's original containment box was sitting on her bed. The same one Wendy had used back when she first found him. The box was a military-grade steel ammo crate, and although Juan _could_ cut through, he found it very difficult, so he usually didn't try.

The noise had come from inside the box.

She approached it cautiously. It looked just as it was when she'd last seen it… But who put it on her bed? She thought she'd left it in the closet yesterday…

And why did it have a note attached to it? She bent over and examined the paper. The words had been typed instead of written, so there was no chance of telling the author by the handwriting. But the note said:

 _Enjoy the time you have with him._

 _Because it's not right for him to stay here long._

 _Find a good place for him, Mabel. We believe in you._

 _Be wise and loving. Be his hero. Save his life._

Could it be? Could it BE? Mabel reached into the drawer on her bedside table, and retrieved a pair of leather gloves, just in case. Then she gently turned the box toward her, unlatched it, and opened the lid.

Juan stared back at her, alive and well.

She didn't know how, she didn't know why, but he was back. And that was all that mattered to her. He was safe. She removed the lid entirely. The robot huddled back into the far corner of the box, and timidly retracted his saws as far as they would go.

She reached in a glove to pet him. To let him know it was alright. That she still loved him, and that he didn't have to feel sorry or afraid…

 _But did he?_

Stan had wanted to kill him last time, after what he did. Same with Ford. And Dipper hadn't tried to stop him. No, Juan _was_ right to feel afraid. They might kill him if they knew he was back! That means… Mabel would just have to keep this a secret. It pained her to do so, especially against her own family, but it was the only way to keep Juan alive. She would have to keep him here and not tell anyone… Let him suck on the outlets when nobody was watching. Keep him safe in his box the rest of the time. Play with him when they were alone.

And as soon as possible, find that 'good place' for him… Whoever had saved him last night had trusted her, and her alone, with the safety and well-being of this creature.

With grim determination and a small guilty weight on her soul, she accepted the challenge, and began to formulate a plan. She hoped it was a good plan.

She turned toward Waddles, and shook her head. Waddles met her eyes, and snorted a vow to secrecy. It was nice having a friend who understood these grave matters. Even if that friend was a pig.

* * *

Illustration for this chapter (replace spaces with periods):

www deviantart com/codylabs/art/Forest-of-Daggers-Chapter-10-753408628


	11. Confident

Dan's giant 4X4 trundled lazily through the Gravity Falls town square, on the way to the Mystery Shack. Up in the cab, Dipper and Wendy had the windows down, to let the valley's cool breeze dry their backs and pits while they drank soda and ate some chocolate bars. The mid-afternoon sun was melting the candy all over the place, and the shaking of the truck on the bumpy road made it hard to drink the soda neatly. But they didn't mind.

Some old country song by Jimmy Buck was blasting over the truck's radio, and since they both knew the lyrics, they sung right along. This was the perfect way to relax after a long, stressful day of spelunking/tomb-raiding/dealing with complicated, crazy, stupid, confusing, weird sci-fi nonsense. Just perfect.

Suddenly, Dipper spied something on the street corner up ahead. "Oh hey!" He observed. "There's Pacifica!"

"OH CRAP!" Wendy yelped, when she noticed too.

She swerved off the road. "WOAH, what the heck?!" Dipper yelped, as Wendy whisked them into a tiny alleyway. The centrifugal force yanked him out of his seat and struck him against the window, and he realized he should have been wearing a seatbelt. By the time he got himself back in his seat, Wendy had put the vehicle in park, and killed the engine. "What is this?" Dipper asked.

"She can't see you in here!" Wendy looked over her shoulder, just to check that they hadn't been followed.

"Who, Pacifica…? Why not?"

"Because!" Wendy looked down at her friend's frowning face. And she first really realized just how perfectly helpless he was here. He'd never had a proper female friend before, and now he had _absolutely no_ idea what to do with it. He was lost, and way in over his head.

He needed help.

So, Wendy decided to delve into her own puddle of experience, and give him some romantic advice. That was what friends do, right? "Okay." She told him. "Remember how you just had a super mediocre date last night? After that baggage, it just won't do if you're sitting next to some other girl, waving from the cab of a passing truck. I know if _I_ was watching a boyfriend of _mine_ hang out with some other girl while dodging my attention, I would be all like 'huh?' So you have to talk to her FACE, man! You need to _walk up to her, look her in the eye, and tell her what's up._ "

"What's up?"

"I mean, do you like her, or don't you? Repeat last night's misadventure, or no? Go out again, or not? A couple, or just friends? You need to be friends either way, man, and you need to get this awkward mess sorted. You know how it is when you just let it build up into some stupid deal!"

"I… I don't… I mean…" Dipper scratched his head, and began to get sweaty. "I don't know… I don't… Can't we just ignore it for today? It's been a long day. I could duck down as we drive past… Or… Or…"

"Come on, man." Wendy said. "This is exactly why you have to do it now. Because you'll put it off, and put it off, until it starts seeming like a weird obligation and you can barely even talk to her, and… It'll just be way better if you deal with it immediately… So I'll give you 30 seconds to think about this. And then, you hop out of the truck, lift up your chin, throw your shoulders back, walk right up to her, and tell her how you feel."

"Umm… 30 seconds?" Dipper frowned.

"Oh, no no no." Wendy shook her head. "28."

"But…! I don't! Guh! Gee! Huh-bub-uh-gug! I….! What do I say?"

"You tell her how you honestly feel, you ask her how she feels about things. If you want, you ask her out again. And then you give her a little kiss and keep walking. I'll pick you up on the next corner."

"I… WHAT?! KISS HER? …Where do I kiss her?"

"I don't know…! Like, on the cheek or something! Just be sweet and suave. 17 seconds."

"But… But…"

"Be a man, man. 16."

"But how will I remember everything to say?"

"14."

"What if she's not standing on the street corner by the time I get over there?"

"12."

"What if I'm so dirty and smelly that she pepper-sprays me?!"

"10."

"What if I get bitten by radioactive wasps while I'm walking towards her?!"

"8."

"Wendy, I can't do this! I haven't rehearsed it! I haven't made a LIST!"

"6."

"I can't do it! I'm… Wendy, I'm not confident enough to actually do that for real!"

Wendy stopped counting. "Not confident enough?" She frowned. "Why the heck not?"

"I… I don't know… Girls…"

"You're Dipper Pines! You punched Gideon's combat Jaeger in the face with its own fist, after diving headfirst off a cliff and through a window! You can think up plans and ideas on the fly in literally any situation! That means that for _sure_ , you can handle some 90-pound, makeup-faced, perfume-smelly blonde golf thing if you're given a _full half-minute_ to prepare."

"But… But…"

"Alright." Wendy rubbed her face with her hands in frustration, then reached over her shoulder into the truck's backseat. Her hand came back with a thermos. "You know what's in here?" She asked.

"…What?"

"Umm…" She opened it and sniffed. "Well, mostly coffee. But it's laced with a… A super-special additive. I found the chemical in the Manotaur's mancave, when I hiked up to Man Mountain last February. It's extracted from a rare species of Manshroom, and is one of the secret sources to the Manotars' great power. This… Is Liquid Manly Confidence."

"Liquid Manly Confidence?"

"Yeah. L.M.C. It works really well. I had some once, and got so confident I tried to eat a tree."

"Eat a tree?"

"I, uh… Wait a minute, never mind, that's stupid. Anyway, the point is that this stuff will make you _hecka_ confident. Take a swig, and then head out there." Dipper unscrewed the top, and looked in at the liquid for a second. "Drink IT! Drink IT! Drink IT!" Wendy began to chant. Dipper gritted his teeth, lifted the thermos to his lips, drank, and swallowed. _I wonder if this is a good idea_ , he thought, much too late to stop it going down.

The solution tasted almost exactly like coffee, but left a confident sort of aftertaste.

"How long till it reaches full effect?" He asked.

"Uh… Really fast." She took the thermos back from him, and screwed the lid back on. "In fact, it should be working now; let me check." Wendy raised her fist, and swung a punch at her smaller friend.

Dipper reached a palm up, blocked her strike in midair, and with all his strength managed to divert it from hitting his face. The sound of the fist-palm impact rang sharply through the cab.

And Dipper realized he hadn't flinched.

"You're ready." Wendy smiled. "Now get out of here. I'll meet you on 3rd street."

 _It worked. I can do this. I can do this. I CAN DO THIS! I may crash and burn, but let it never be said I gave in without a fight! Not today!_ Dipper confidently thrust open the door, confidently leapt down to the pavement, confidently slammed the door, confidently strutted out of the alley, confidently looked side to side, confidently located Pacifica, and confidently decided to stop overusing the adverb 'confidently'. He speed-walked toward her now, with his chin up, his shoulders back, his eyes fixed ahead, and his biceps half-flexed. As he got nearer to her however, he stumbled slightly, and blinked. His repressed nervousness briefly resurfaced, and a shadow of a doubt entered his mind: _Would this really work?_

Dan's truck rolled past him in the direction of 3rd street. Wendy leaned way out the window, winked, and gave him a hearty thumbs-up. _Wendy believes in me… I can do this._ Dipper's steps picked back up again. _I can do this._

About this time, Pacifica noticed his approach. She glanced up from her phone to look him up and down.

She saw that he was smelly, sweaty, and covered in mud, soda, chocolate, alien machine oil, alien mummy dust, and other unconventional alien substances. He also had a bloody bandage on his right hand, skinned knees, grass in his hair, sweat in his pits, and his fly was open. Dipper was well aware of all these faults in personal upkeep, but he was too confident to let them sway his advance. "Hey Pacifica." He met her eye, and smiled bravely. "How's it going?"

"Uh…" She shifted her weight to her other hip, and shrugged. She didn't smile yet. "Uh… It's going okay. I was just waiting for Ariel so we could go shopping…"

"Oh yeah?" Dipper nodded bravely. "That's cool… Okay, here's the thing: I wanted to talk about last night." She perked up at the mention of this, and frowned just slightly. "I realize now that I kind of made a fool of myself, getting distracted with the clothes and the food and stuff and making faces at the waiter… I realize that I may have embarrassed you, and I'm sorry. But in the end, even after all that, I just wanted to come up and say that I actually had a _wonderful_ time. Thank you for dinner, Pacifica."

Pacifica took her attention fully away from her phone, and met his eye. Now she smiled. "Oh… Thanks… And you're welcome." She looked him up and down one more time. "So… Where have you been…?"

He sighed. "Today… I'm afraid I'm gonna have to go with _never mind all that_. But I'll have you know that _fried dead gross mummies_ were a part of it, and so was _McGucket_ , and it was a _long_ day. So I wouldn't want to gross you out with the nitty-gritty details."

She laughed, and shrugged. "Okay…"

"So." Dipper put his hands on his hips, and decided that _yes_ , he _would_ ask her out. But this time, _he_ would make the first move, to prevent any possibility of fancy restaurant interference. This would be a _cool_ date. "…They forecast perfect zombie weather on Monday night; full moon, heavy fog… So me and the gang were thinking of heading up to Robby's place to help set up some fortifications. Barricades, barbed wire, tiger pits, bug zappers, the works. There might even be some karaoke. You want to come with?"

"Uh…" Pacifica shifted her weight again, glanced down at her phone before putting it away, and ran a hand through her hair. Dipper suddenly realized something very odd: she was fidgeting! For once, a _girl_ was nervous talking to _him_! Geez, this was kind of surreal. That L.M.C. must be potent stuff! "Like…" She hesitated. "I think I have golf lessons at that time, but I'll try to see if I can open up something in my schedule…"

"Oh." Dipper nodded. "How about the arcade, then? They've got a lot of really old, really fun games there. And popcorn is free on Tuesdays. Or we could go bowling. That's fun too…"

"Umm…" Pacifica seemed to shrink back a little into herself. "I don't think I can really… Do… Tuesday…"

Dipper's confident smile lapsed briefly. _She's making excuses. She doesn't want to go out with me… I messed up too bad the first time, and all my suggestions sound gross to her, and the arcade doesn't sell gourmet popcorn… Is gourmet popcorn even a thing…? Does she NEED gourmet popcorn? Like some nice cars only run on expensive gas…? I don't know if I can afford this relationship. Oh wait a minute! NO! I'm getting nervous again! The L.M.C. must be wearing off! I need to wrap this up quick and get going before it leaves my system entirely!_

With one deep breath, he prepared himself for his last and bravest effort. "Okay. Well hey, if you ever want to hang out again, just give me a call."

And he leaned over and kissed her on the cheek.

She reached up and touched the place of contact, unsure if she should be smitten or off-put by the lip-shaped stain of sweaty alien machine oil. But the hint of a smile crossed her face. "Okay." She nodded.

And then Dipper tipped his hat farewell, and resumed his confident march down the street towards the next intersection. Wendy was waiting for him right where she said, and he hopped in the passenger door. As soon as it was closed, he let out a pent-up breath of air, and made a loud, relieved groan-sighing sound.

"So…?" Wendy shoved the transmission into first gear.

"UHHHH…" Dipper took off his hat, and ran his hands briskly through his hair, just to vent his nervousness. "UHHHH…" He repeated. "I think I made it out without embarrassing anyone… Barely… And I don't think she wants to go out with me again… I asked, but she kept making excuses…"

Wendy laughed. "Well, I hate to be the one to say it, but… _Serves you right for dating a minor antagonist!_ "

"Hey…"

"Don't kill the messenger! We were all thinking it… Anyway, what kind of dates did you suggest?"

"Uh… Building zombie defenses at Robbie's place… Arcade… Bowling…"

"Those all sound pretty good." Wendy frowned. "She didn't want to?"

"No. I think they grossed her out. Or were too middle-class for her…"

Wendy frowned. "Really…? Wait, back up! How did she get hitched with YOU, then?"

"Ugh." Dipper shrugged. "Long story."

"Chances are, your _whole life_ is gonna end up being weird, gross, middle-class nonsense. If she can't handle that, she's got no business in the business. It's probably for the best that you broke it off now instead of later."

"Ugh…" Dipper shrugged again. "Man, I'm just glad you gave me the L.M.C… I don't know how I would've handled that whole thing without it…"

Wendy snickered. "PSYCHE!" She gave the thermos a little toss. "That was just regular coffee!"

"Huh?"

"That's right! Manotaurs don't do drugs, I never ate a tree, and placebos don't work if you know they're placebos!"

"Whaaaaat…"

"That means you can be that confident whenever you feel like it, dude! I had to trick you this first time, but now look! It's like a special ability in a video game: _Dipper unlocked bravery! It's super effective!_ Right?"

Dipper scratched his head, and smiled. "Huh." He scratched again. "Yeah."

"Yeah." Wendy turned her attention back to the road, and began to beep her horn at the car ahead of them who was driving too slow. It was a cop.

Meanwhile, Dipper considered his friend's advice. Confidence _did_ work better on girls. Pacifica seemed happier and even flattered, he'd been able to get through it like a gentleman and take a rejection smoothly… They were still friends, nobody hated each other, they could hang out again if they wanted to and it wouldn't be weird… They were friends again, just the way it should be. The comfortable sort of friends.

 _I got the result I wanted. Confidence IS super effective. That means… Now that this power is mine… I can actually ask girls on dates, and it might actually work!_

 _It might actually work…_

His heart began to beat faster, and his sweat started to un-dry.

He glanced sideways at Wendy.

It's strange: he'd purposefully repressed his stupid crush a long time ago, because it seemed to get him nothing but pain. He tried not to think of her as a beautiful girl, or even as a girl at all. She was just a friend, just a sister, just a comrade, because last time he checked, he was too young to be anything more… He'd stopped looking at her the way he used to, and put her in a category all her own. An gender-ambiguous, close-but-not-too-close, friend-comrade-buddy category.

But now. Now he was feeling confident, now he was free of other hang-ups, now she had been encouraging him along, now they'd been spending time together as equals. Now… Now he once more looked at her the way he used to. And he noticed again how beautiful she was.

She may indeed be smelly, sweaty, and covered in mud, soda, chocolate, alien machine oil, alien mummy dust, and other unconventional alien substances. She may indeed have a bloody bandage on her right hand, a dead metal shrub tangled in her hair, scratches on her elbows, and a finger up her nose… But… None of that really mattered to him. She was still the most awesome girl in town. And the dirtiness didn't bother her either.

They were… Alike.

His brain began to follow a very particular train of logic.

Wendy noticed his stare out of the corner of her eye, and realized what he must be thinking. She didn't turn her head to acknowledge him, but she frowned just slightly. _Uh oh._ She though.

Still in her peripheral vision, she saw Dipper turn fully to face her, and raise his eyes to meet hers. Then he put his chin up, his shoulders back, his eyes forward, and half-flexed the tiny muscles in his upper body. And then he opened his mouth to say something. _Man…_ She thought. _Man… Uh oh… Umm… Oh man, I put the idea in his head, didn't I? Umm… Huh. Uh oh. I should have known something like this was gonna happen. I should have planned something to say. Dang it, what do I do here?_

But nothing happened. After a few seconds of staring at her like a moron with his mouth open, Dipper closed it again. And his chin lowered, and his muscles deflated, and he seemed to sag into himself, as he realized that, once again, he didn't have what it took. He wasn't brave enough and he didn't have a chance. So he turned to look out the window. Past the glare of the mid-afternoon sun, nobody could possibly have seen his tiny little shrug. And past the road noise through the open window, nobody could possibly have heard his quiet sigh.

But Wendy saw, and Wendy heard.

And she understood.

They finally reached the mystery shack, and Dipper grabbed his backpack and opened the truck's door. As he stepped down, Wendy reached over and punched him in the shoulder. It swayed him, but he kept his balance. And he didn't flinch.

She looked him in the eye. "Hey." She said. "I'll see you tomorrow."

He held her eye, and nodded solemnly. "See you then."

Then he hopped down from the truck, threw his backpack over his shoulder, and made for the Mystery shack. _Tomorrow._ He thought. _Forget everything else, we're going back to the forest tomorrow. I need to write down all the stuff we learned in the ship, I need to talk to Ford, I need to talk to Mabel, I need to get the equipment together… And then I need some sleep._

Wendy turned the truck back in the direction of her own cabin, and hung an elbow out the window as the engine accelerated. _Tomorrow._ She thought. _Tomorrow, a lot of crap is going down… A lot of crap… I need to pick my dad up from the hospital, get weapons and armor together… And get some sleep._

* * *

Some time later, the noise of footsteps interrupted Dipper from his studies. He glanced up from his journal to see that Wendy had strolled into the Mystery Shack parlor. She glanced around casually, and her eyes landed on him. "Sup, dude." She smiled.

"Oh, hey." Dipper smiled. "How's things going?"

"Going good…" She strolled over and eased herself down in the seat across from him. "I've just been thinking."

"Uh… About what?"

"About, like… You know. Your crush and all that. I said 'no' last year, but…" She shrugged. "You've gotten older since we last talked about this. And more mature. Smarter, braver, stronger. And now that I'm helping you out with stuff, you're really becoming a man."

"Oh…" Dipper would have been sweaty and nervous, but instead he felt confident. "Thanks."

"So here's what I'm thinking…" She said. "I'd rather spend my life's mission with you, and fight and work beside you, rather than anyone else."

"Oh… Wait, hold on… You mean it?"

"Look at us!" She told him. "We stand together, fight together, share our secrets, keep our secrets. We love and care for each other more than friends. More even than siblings. That's romance in its own way, isn't it? In a way, you could say we're already married."

This made sense to him. "Huh… Yeah." He answered. "I guess… Ish…?"

"We've said our vows of loyalty. We've demonstrated our love and our respect. Now there's just one thing left: …Do you want to have a kid?" She asked.

"Uh…" He scratched his head, highly confused by the prospect. "Uh…" He stuttered. "I guess… I kind of always wanted to be a dad someday… I mean… Umm… Sure… Sure! Yeah! …What does that entail?"

"Oh, I just need your DNA. You've got DNA, right?"

"Uh… Oh yeah! Of course I do!" He answered. "I'm a living being, aren't I?" He reached into his pocket and pulled out a USB drive. "My whole genome should be in a file right on there."

"Awesome." She nodded, and took the drive from him. Then she removed another one from her own pocket. "And I've got _my_ genome on file right here. Now we just have to start the process…"

Wendy walked over to a giant supercomputer, and plugged in both drives. The computer lit up, and began to sort through the information. When it finished, a prompt appeared on the screen:

-blueprint compilation complete!

-begin print now? Y/N

Wendy hit the 'yes' icon, and another prompt appeared:

-print started

-estimated completion: 9 months

Below Dipper's feet, in the basement of the shack, he heard a large automated factory hum to life. And it began to cut, drill, print, and assemble parts for the new baby. So long as they didn't mess with anything or break anything, it should have a kid manufactured before too long.

"Yep. That's it." Wendy smiled.

"It is? That was pretty easy." Dipper scratched his head. "We don't have to do anything… Weird…?"

"Nope. That's it. We're parents now. Happily ever after." Wendy promised him.

Then she leaned down and kissed him on the cheek.

The touch caused him to recoil in surprise and pain. He stumbled away from her, tripped over Waddle's food tray, and landed on his butt. _Why had that hurt so bad?_ As he staggered back to his feet, he reached up to touch his face. On the cheek where she'd kissed him, he felt a long, rough scratch. His hand came away covered in oily black blood. He would definitely need stitches, and maybe a tetanus shot.

 _What? Kissing doesn't normally cause damage… That's not how it felt from Pacifica…_

He looked up at Wendy. And he saw that instead of an ordinary jaw, she had an assembly of saws for a mouth. And her eyes were glowing red, her skin was metal, and her hair was a tangle of copper wires. Then Dipper looked down at himself. His mouth was saws too, and his skin was metal as well.

"Oh." He said. " _Now_ I get it."

"Exactly. This ain't your sissy life anymore." She told him. "You've entered the _hard life_. You're stuck with me now, so you need to take it like a man. What did you expect?"

"Uh…" He looked at the tank treads on his feet, and wiggled his claw-toes. "I honestly don't know _what_ I expected." He admitted. "I mean… I don't know if this is right for me…"

"Sure it is." Wendy told him. "You know it is. And besides, it's too late to back out; we've already had our son."

A loud chime from the basement proved her point, and the noise from the factory died off. "He's done already?" Dipper frowned. "That was fast."

"Yep." Wendy said, as they both walked over to a metal hatch in the floor. Wendy pried open the compartment, reached inside, pulled out the kid, and unplugged his umbilical cord. "Awesome!" She said, holding him up. "Look at him!"

The kid was Juan.

"Hey… Wait a minute here…" Dipper frowned. "Why is our kid a feral monster?"

Then he heard another voice, quiet and gentle, whisper in his ear. " _This is the consequence of the hard life. All your mistakes and pride and selfishness, and all her anger and rebellion and spite, have been put into this. He will be your legacy._ "

Dipper looked up at Wendy. "No." He shook his head, and took a step back. "We shouldn't have done this."

Juan struggled free of Wendy's grasp, jumped down to the floor, and looked up at Dipper. "I'm hungry." He said. "I need to eat. Which of your loved ones shall I eat?"

The voice sounded again. " _Your legacy will be one of pain and terror._ "

"Whom shall it be?" Juan repeated. "How about HER?" He gestured to Mabel, whom Dipper realized was standing in the room. His saws extended.

"Not Mabel! We love her!"

"How about HER?" Juan gestured to Pacifica, who was standing in the room too. His saws began to spin.

"Not Pacifica! She's innocent!"

"How about HIM!" Juan gestured to Soos. His saws began to spin faster.

"Not Soos! He's our bro!"

"How about THEM?" Juan gestured to the Stans. The saws were getting loud.

"Leave them out of this! The world needs them!"

"How about HIM?" Juan gestured to Robbie. His saws spun still faster, and Dipper could barely hear himself speak.

"Umm… Please don't."

"HOW ABOUT HER?" Juan now turned his head toward Wendy. His blades were spinning very rapidly now, with a deafening noise.

"NO! DON'T KILL WENDY!"

"Then how about YOU?" Juan asked with a smirk.

The voice whispered again in Dipper's ear. " _Would it be right to run in fear?_ "

"I can't run." Dipper raised his fists, extended his saws, and took a fighting stance. "If you're really going to put people in danger." He told Juan. "I swear I'll go down swinging. I'll hunt you. I'll kill you. I'll make sure that not a single drop of innocent blood is spilled on your account."

"How simply delicious." Juan answered. The little robot took a step towards him. Then another step. The noise from the saws was deafening and ubiquitous, and the presence of the looming fight seemed to fill the whole room. There was nothing besides it. Dipper felt himself fill with anger, fill with hate, fill with fear, fill with sadness and guilt and grief and wrath.

Then Juan sprang up at Dipper with a shriek, Dipper lunged forward at him with a ferocious war cry, and that was the entirety of it. Dipper would kill him, or he would kill Dipper. There was nothing besides that.

They were just about to meet with a clash, when suddenly…

Dipper opened his eyes.

The world was all dark and quiet, and he was sitting up in bed. His skin was wet and his tongue was dry, and his breathing was coming ragged and heavy. His fists were balled in front of him, just as they had been moments ago, but this time there was nothing to fight. He was alone.

All just a dream. It was all just a dream.

 _Yeah. Now that he put some waking thought into it, that whole thing was just super ridiculous. Wendy doesn't even like me… She's not a robot… I'm not a robot… We're sure as heck not MARRIED… Juan can't talk… I'm 85% certain that that's not how you make babies… And Juan wasn't actually that dangerous…_

 _Was he?_

Dipper lay back down, and glanced over at Mabel's sleeping form.

She had gone to bed with Juan's old containment crate clutched in her arms. As a memento to him or something… She still loved him. She still missed him. Even though one of her hands still had the bandages of her injury, even though he'd hurt her so badly, she would never see him as a monster or an enemy. To her, he would only ever be a lovable pet.

But… She was wrong. He _had_ attacked her. He _was_ a wild animal. He _was_ ferocious and unpredictable. _If I ever see that thing again… I'm going to kill it. I have to make sure that what happened to Mabel would never happen again. I love her too much. I love Pacifica too much. I love my family too much. I love Wendy too much… I would rather exterminate their whole race, I would rather live a hard life, I would rather die myself, than watch any harm come to any of them, and live with the knowledge that I could have done something._

 _There will be no more innocent blood. I would die on this hill._

And that reminded him again of his dream.

But what a dream it had been! The images and sounds and horror of it all were still vivid in his mind. He wondered for a moment what the dream could mean, what it could symbolize, what he could learn from it, whether such a thing could ever be real.

But it was just a dream. And, as everybody knows, dreams never mean anything at all.

He pushed such thoughts from his mind, closed his eyes, and drifted back off to sleep.

And he couldn't wait for tomorrow.

* * *

Illustration for this chapter (replace spaces with periods):

www deviantart com/codylabs/art/The-Forest-of-Daggers-Chapter-11-753411958

I love this illustration for... Personal reasons. Look at their freaky little claws! So cuute.


	12. Escape to the Hard Life

Wendy awoke.

Just outside her open window, she heard her brother running the lawn mower. Doing it early in the morning was just his way of reminding her that _she_ had promised to mow the lawn. But since she'd procrastinated for so long, _he_ got a bigger allowance for doing it instead.

 _Ugh. I forgot again. Rub my face in it, why don't ya?_

She didn't even bother opening the drawer of her dresser, because all her clothes were lying on the floor where she'd left them in the past week. She'd _meant_ to get the laundry done yesterday. And the day before that. But she always just said 'I'll to it tomorrow'. But then the tomorrows came and went, and the laundry never got done, and her plans always bumped on back to 'tomorrow' once again.

Ugh. I'll do it tomorrow.

So she crawled out of bed and into her cleanest dirty shirt, and began to prepare for the day.

When she came out of her room ten minutes later, with a backpack full of gear and an armful of armor, her dad was reclining on the couch watching TV.

He wasn't looking so great. Juan's mom had scratched him in the shoulder, sawed him in the leg, and threw him against the side of the house. He was still hurting pretty badly, and simply couldn't find a way to sit that didn't tweak something somewhere.

But Daniel Corduroy was a very manly man; such mortal pains were trivial to beings like him. He didn't complain or whine. He threw no fuss whatsoever. He just kept the bandages where they were, kept the ice against it, and watched TV like normal. _WHAT'S A LITTLE PAIN?_ He thought. _I'VE HAD WORSE. WAIT, MAYBE I HAVEN'T… OH, SHUT UP ME!_

Wendy aimed for house's front door, which meant walking directly between him and the TV. She expected her dad to mutter some annoyed remark at the interruption, like usual. But instead, he broke his eyes entirely away from the screen, reached for the remote, and turned it off. "HEY." He said, and gave her his full attention.

She stopped walking, and turned to face him. "Hey."

"DIDN'T SEE YOU YESTERDAY." He grunted. "WHERE WERE YA?"

"Oh, just…" She glanced around, trying to think how to put it. "Well… We were looking around, trying to figure out where the killer robots came from. And… Well… Yeah."

"FIND ANY ANSWERS?"

"…Yeah."

"WHERE?"

"It's… Uh…" She hesitated to say it. "…Kind of a need-to-know basis…"

"…YOU… WAIT… HUH? YOU'RE GONNA KEEP A SECRET FROM YOUR OWN FATHER?!"

She glanced about nervously. "Well… I kind of have to. Just… Trust me, it's for the greater good that it stays between as few people as possible… It's… We said to keep it a secret. We promised… I promised to take some very… Very amazing and scary things to my grave… And I wouldn't betray that."

This made a bit of sense to him, but it still annoyed him. He frowned up at the ceiling for a few seconds, and took a deep breath to calm his great annoyance. "SO." With a mighty and obvious effort, he moved on. "WHO'S 'WE'?"

"Huh?"

"WHO DO YOU TRUST THAT MUCH? MORE THAN ME?"

"Uh… I… I do trust you dad, it's just… Okay, uh… The Pines men… Uh… Stanley and Stanford. Remember them? Used to own the Mystery Shack…"

"A'COURSE."

"And Dipper, their great-nephew… I was with him all of yesterday."

Dan nodded. "OH YEAH. THE LESS-GIRLY ONE. TELL ME ABOUT HIM."

"Huh?"

"… YOU'VE BEEN SPENDING A LOT OF TIME WITH THE KID. TELL ME ABOUT HIM."

"He's… Uh… He's a good man." She stated simply.

Dan pondered this for a moment. "…MAN?"

"That's right."

"…HE'S BUILT LIKE A GIRL HALF HIS AGE."

"Oh _yeah_?" Wendy fished her brain for some great comeback. "Well… Eh."

Dan considered this. It seemed wrong to him that of a pair of mixed twins, the smaller one would be the boy. And it seemed further wrong to him that said boy would be given such a share of respect and trust. It seemed even further wrong to him that the boy's obvious shortcomings would be so consistently and totally overlooked… Dan didn't want to think too hard about all this though, because he knew he was probably wrong… But still.

He looked back up at the ceiling and took another deep breath, while he endeavored to drag his mind back on-topic. "HOW MUCH LONGER IS THIS THING GONNA TAKE?"

"Like… Solving the mysteries of these robot things?"

"MAKING SURE THEY DON'T DO THIS NO MORE." He pointed to his bandages. "HOW LONG 'TILL YA BEAT 'EM?"

She shrugged helplessly. "Like, I don't know! This isn't a war, dad! We don't have an enemy that we can stand up to, it's just a bunch of… Wild animals, we don't even know how many! And this isn't a job, either! I don't have a schedule to keep or a wage to earn… I've put maybe 40 hours into this mess just this week, not including the time I spent recording in my diary or with you at the hospital. And we have NO idea how close we are to solving the mystery, and even LESS idea WHAT to do once we solve it…"

"40 HOURS THIS WEEK?" Dan frowned.

"Yeah." Wendy grunted.

Dan considered this, and decided to remind her of her second priority. "YOU KNOW, YOU STILL NEED TO GET A JOB THIS SUMMER."

Wendy closed her eyes. She had been meaning to forget that part for a while now. Her hands balled into fists within her pockets. "Yeah." She grunted again. "I know."

"HAVE YOU BEEN LOOKING FOR A JOB?"

"No." She admitted, as politely as she could manage.

"YOU KNOW YOU SAID YOU WANTED A 'GOOD' JOB… THAT MEANS YOU NEED TO SET YOUR SIGHTS HIGH. YOU NEED A RESUME… YOU FINISHED THAT YET?"

"No." She admitted.

Her dad frowned. "HAVE YOU EVEN BEEN WORKING ON IT?"

She took her balled fists out of her pockets. "No." She admitted.

"…HAVE YOU STARTED IT?"

"No!" She spat.

This annoyed Dan even more. He stared up at the ceiling for a few more seconds, and breathed deeply again. He looked back at her again. "THIS IS YOUR LIFE, WENDY. YOUR GAS MONEY, YOUR DRIVER'S INSURANCE, YOUR CAR SOMEDAY, YOUR COLLEGE IF YOU WANT…"

"I know, but… There's always stuff that… Look, it'll GET done, dad! I'll get a job. I will! Just…" She gestured to the armor she had in her hands, then to the door. "There's other stuff to do…!"

"THERE ALWAYS IS! BUT IF YOU REALLY WANTED THAT JOB, YOU WOULDN'T JUST COME HOME AND WATCH TV LIKE YOU DO! YOU WOULD WORK FOR IT!"

"Yeah. Thanks. I will." Wendy turned and made for the door.

"LOOK, I KNOW YOU DON'T WANT ME REMINDING YOU, AND I KNOW IT'S YOUR LIFE, BUT I CAN'T JUST SIT BY WHILE YOU BLOW IT!" He bellowed. "YOU'RE RUNNING AROUND CHASING GHOSTS, AND YOU THINK THAT LETS YOU GET OFF RESPONSIBILITIES! I CARE ABOUT YOU, WENDY! SOMETIMES IT SEEMS I CARE MORE THAN YOU!"

"Sure…" Wendy grunted, stepped out the front door, and slammed it shut behind her.

Ugh.

 _The job_ … Her dad expected her to have a job… It wasn't a huge expectation, really. It was perfectly reasonable… It just happened to be the straw that broke the camel's cool. She didn't want to deal with this. She didn't want to think about it. She wanted nothing more than to forget all about it. She was so… Very… Done.

She eased herself down onto the front step, pulled out her phone, and began to check through her recent messages.

 _-Nate found a way to make paint cans explode! Come to the football game tonight so we can totally terrorize it! -Lee_

 _-Why aren't you texting me? I thought you wanted to go out again! -Joe_

 _-Free subscription to our weekly newsletter! Simply call 8005554592 with credit card information -$$Win Win Baby$$_

 _-Robbie says he can give us a ride to the forest today. Ready to roll out at 10:00. -Dipper_

 _-I still love you, btw. 3. -Joe_

 _-Oops, I mean 3. -Joe_

 _-Credit Union Fraud Center: Fuel tax $38.83 on card 6800 of your account. If valid reply YES, if fraud reply NO. To opt out reply STOP. -Credit Union Fraud Center_

 _-3 people liked your status update._

 _-I understand the urgency of the matter. I'll be at 412 Gopher Avenue on the 10th. ._

 _-I'M MOWNG THE LAN AND GETING YOUR ALLOWANS! NYEH! -Bro_

 _-Your library book 'Cryptids: Pseudo-Science or Reality?' has been overdue as of 05/14/2012. Return by yesterday or pay the full buyout price. -Gravity Falls Library_

 _-Did I mention I found a way to make paint cans explode? Instant graffiti! -Nate_

She scrolled through the messages. The words entered through her eyes and into her subconscious, but they didn't get much further than that, because she didn't care what they said; not even a little.

This wasn't important. This wasn't relevant. This was just her friends, her family, and the whole of the rest of society, trying to get in at her. Trying to get a piece of her. Vying for her attention, her time, even her money… Everybody wanted a piece of Wendy, everybody was saying something different and confusing, and the only method she had to survive was to retreat: shut it out and ignore it.

She began to delete texts.

Only one really stuck out to her, and she kept it.

 _-Robbie says he can give us a ride to the forest today. Ready to roll out at 10:00. -Dipper_

There it is.

The mission. The plan. The duty. The purpose. There was one thing at least which was tangible and real.

Here in this normal life, where everything was ordinary and routine, here was where reality was at its most confusing, most burdensome, most troubling and depressing. But in that other life, where everything was crazy and hectic, where so much good and evil hung in balance, that was where things started to fall into place. That was where she stopped being confused, and could finally stand tall enough to stop being lazy. She could forget her family, her ex-boyfriends, her responsibilities, her laundry… It freed her. This crazy life was the one place where she knew how to live.

That was the life she loved.

 _-Ready for pickup now._ She texted Dipper back. _-I've got my armor if you've got yours. See you in a bit._

* * *

Dipper tossed his backpack and armor into the back of Robbie's van, where they clattered to a stop on top of Wendy's. Dipper slammed the doors back shut, and made his way toward the front of the vehicle.

"So… Like, where is this place again?" Robbie was saying, as he pulled out his phone and opened the 'maps' program.

"Oh, you know, just… Back in the woods." Wendy shrugged. "Uh… Head South on Befufftlefumpter Avenue, and I'll let you know from there."

"Oh… Okay." Robbie put away his phone. When he noticed Dipper standing at the door, he gestured toward the back seat. "Hey, you can sit in the back, little man."

The back seat was stuffed chock-full of edgy, gothic clothes, edgy, gothic skateboards, edgy gothic musical instruments, candy wrappers, and edgy, gothic candy wrappers. "Great." Dipper grunted, and began shoveling the junk aside, just to make room to sit down. Robbie started the engine before he'd finished, and lurched down the road toward the forest.

From there, the trip passed in a boring sort of way. Up in the front seats, Wendy and Robbie chatted about the most recent death metal albums, arguing about whether the songs had lyrics or were just screaming, theorizing as to what those lyrics might be, gossiping about the personal lives of the band members, etcetera. Dipper tuned out after a few minutes of this, then opened his journal and looking back over the notes from their first visit.

The first time, they'd only made it into the metal forest about half a mile. Then the underbrush and accumulated malice of the sharp leaves got so painful that they couldn't continue. This time however, Wendy's improvised suits of armor should be able to get them as far as the needed; far enough to reach the alien coordinates.

'Betty and Barney' said they'd set up 'fortifications' there. With any luck at all, the place would hold some answers.

The pavement ended after about ten minutes of driving. The gravel ended about ten minutes after that, and then the van was bouncing and rocking its way along narrow, overgrown dirt roads, up into the hills and deeper into the unknown.

The road took one final bend toward the old logging areas, and here they instructed Robbie to stop. This was the closest such roads reached, so they'd have to continue on foot from here.

Dipper and Wendy hopped out of the van and circled around to the back, where they began to unpack their equipment, and suit up.

"Hey…" Wendy remarked. "Why's there a third backpack in here?"

"Huh?" Dipper looked down at it. "I don't know. I thought you put that here."

"Nope." Wendy reached over and picked it up. "Well, there's nothing even in it except some old glitter…"

"Oh, okay… Wait, what?"

They were interrupted from their discussion by Robbie, who had followed them around to the back of them van. "Woah." He blinked, as he regarded their armor. "Is all that really necessary?"

"Oh yeah." Dipper told him.

"Eh." Wendy shrugged as she pulled the leather gloves and composite gauntlets over her arms. "We'll see. But it can't hurt, right?"

"Uh… So… Look…" Robbie shrugged, and shoved his hands deeper into his pockets. "Like… You know that I wasn't a chicken the last time you guys went out there. I actually did want to come."

"I know." Wendy hiked up her leggings, and tightened the belt. "But you were wearing flip-flops."

"Well… Look. I'm wearing boots this time. And I'm still not chicken." Robbie gestured down to his boots. "I, like… I heard what happened to your dad. I heard that this thing really hurt him. So… Like, that sucks. And I want to help. I want to do this. I do."

 _Oh…_ Dipper realized. _That third backpack must be his. He was planning to come along the whole time… What did Wendy have to say about this?_ He looked over at her.

Wendy lowered the shoulder pads into place, and cinched the straps up around her waist. She glanced sideways at Robbie. "You really want to risk life, limb, and skin out in a deep, dark forest where the leaves are literally thousands of knives?"

"Is that what this is?" One of Robbie's eyes was completely obscured by his hair, but the other one got really wide. "Like, what kind of knives? Do they slash or just stab?"

"Umm… Yes."

"Woah…" Robbie blinked. "That's… Like… Hardcore."

"And it's what we're dealing with." Dipper told him. "Hence the utterly necessary armor."

"Yeah." Wendy threw the chainsaw chaps across her back, and buckled the legs around her wrists. "I mean… You can come if you want, but…"

"UH…?" Dipper looked up at her, wondering if she really meant that. Robbie was useless, right?

"Oh yeah? Hey, look!" Robbie slipped back toward the front of the van, and came back in a minute covered head-to-toe in ultra-edgy, ultra-gothic black leather. He was also holding his mom's sawed-off shotgun. "I got this!" He told them.

Dipper snorted. "You look like a… Like… I don't know, like Catwoman or something."

"HEY!" Robbie snarled. "At least I don't look like some junior-high flag-football-dropout superhero-wannabe!"

"Is that what this is?" Wendy tied her hair back to make way for the helmet. "I always fancied we were more of… Post-apocalyptic rhino-hunters."

"Well… I mean… You look fine, Wendy, but this guy's helmet is bigger than his torso!"

"You know what?" Dipper snapped. "Fine! I look ridiculous! I'll admit it! But at least I AM going out there prepared. You just got all your stuff just now, and shotguns don't even work on these things!"

Robbie turned toward him, and frowned. "You've got some MOUTH, don't ya, ya snobby little pipsqueak?"

"Woah, dude." Wendy was about to put on her helmet, but instead she set it down and put up her hands to ward off a potential fight. "Back off…"

"You know what? You think you're so much better than me!" Robbie stepped past Wendy and shoved a finger in Dipper's face. "You always have, and now it looks like you always will! Dipper's the smartest! Dipper's the bravest! Dipper's the hero! Dipper's the manliest little snot-nosed 12-year-old brat on the face of this whole stupid Earth! You think you've got it all together huh?"

"I've never said that or thought that!" Dipper took a step forward, and didn't flinch even a little. "All I'm saying is that we can't use you if you're not prepared! You didn't even pack anything in your backpack!"

"Dudes!" Wendy repeated. "Chill!"

"You just want to kiss me off again? Treat me like pointless trash, just like you always do?" Robbie said.

"Wouldn't you, in my place? What AM I supposed to do with you?!" Dipper lost his temper. "Robbie, the ONLY halfway-competent thing I've EVER seen you do is hypnotize Wendy!"

There was silence for a good minute.

Dipper thought through what he'd just said. He wished he hadn't said it, but too late now. He closed his eyes, bit his lower lip, and balled his fists. _Why can't I ever just shut up?_

Robbie took a step back, and his eyes fell to the ground.

Wendy didn't say a word. She just donned her helmet, and turned away.

Robbie and Dipper looked at each other.

"Well." Robbie finally grumbled. " _I guess the winners write the history books_ , huh?" And then he turned away, went back around to the front of his van, and climbed in. The engine sputtered a few times before rolling over, and then the vehicle lurched to life, turned around on the narrow road, and started back down the hill.

* * *

Dipper and Wendy hiked in silence.

"Sorry." Dipper finally said.

The word wasn't half out of his mouth before Wendy interrupted him. "Dude. That's what you say every single time that whole hypnosis thing comes up. You always just start apologizing! Well look, I forgave you! See? I'll do it again: I forgive you. Just like the last, like, four times. So ease up already, okay?"

"Oh… Okay…"

"Only one thing: I forgave Robbie too. So don't go dragging him back into this. We've all moved on. We're all sorry. And nobody's more sorry than him. Nobody wants to move on more than him."

"Yeah… I guess… Sorry."

"Yeah, I heard you the fifth time."

"Sorry."

"Sixth."

"Yeah, yeah. Okay. I get it, I just… Yeah."

"And look." Wendy said. "Don't get hung up on this sort of stuff, man. You're sweating bullets over the distant past, when all you really need to do is chill out, calm down, and stick to what's important."

"But… Aren't my friends… My relationships… You? Important too? Like, I mean… I'm just… I don't know, I was a jerk to Robbie wasn't I? I should apologize to him, huh?"

"Look dude, that's none of my business. But you know what is my business?"

"What?"

"The one thing we're both good at, dude. The mission. Tell me: how close are we to the metal forest?"

Dipper nodded. "Yeah." He reached up underneath the armor's chestpiece, where he'd put his map before setting out today.

It wasn't there.

"Uh…" He checked his back pocket, his front pocket, and all the other little chinks in the armor. He could've sworn he left it in here somewhere… "Uh…" He repeated. "We should be pretty close… I guess… I mean, I must've forgot my map but we should know when we get there, right?"

"It's kind of hard to tell, but if you pick individual trees and look real close…" Wendy picked up a rock, and pitched it at the trunk of a tree up ahead. The impact made a loud metallic 'BONG' sound. "You can tell them apart."

"Huh." Dipper squinted around at some of the other trees, and saw that they were standing right at the end of the organic forest. Past here, there was a few hundred feet of mingled growth, and then the full-metal started in quickly. "We should, like… Paint a line or something." He suggested.

"Yeah…" Wendy pulled out a rattle can of paint, and drew a long red stripe on the side of the nearest tree. Then she dabbed her finger in some of the excess paint, and wrote the words 'DANGER, KILLER ROBOTS BEYOND THIS POINT' above the line. "There we go… Ooh, wait. In case anybody's coming the other direction…" She swung around to the other side of the tree, and wrote 'YOU MADE IT OUT ALIVE. YOU DA BOSS'.

"Great." Dipper nodded. "Now… Ugh, oh man… I forgot my map. How we gonna find the coordinates?"

"We'll just find it with our razor-sharp senses, willy intellects, and cunning instincts." Wendy promised, with utter confidence.

"Uh… Does that work?" Dipper frowned.

"HECK no." Wendy pulled out her own map. "We'll just use mine. Where'd you say it was?" She pointed to a point on the map. "Here?"

"Yep… So… That way." He pointed to the South-East.

"That way." She confirmed, and started into the trees.

And so they continued. They passed through the forest's outer regions, where the trees were further apart and the air was clear. They reached a small creek; the same on from their first visit. But this time they didn't follow it; they crossed straight through, and continued on without stopping. Their destination lay beyond.

A few minutes later, the forest grew thicker and became immersive; the air smelled like iron filings and odd chemicals, normal moss and grass had disappeared entirely, and the clicking and buzzing of wildlife replaced the ordinary birds. Indeed, the whole world seemed ever-so-slightly colder and greyer. This place was alien in every way.

Their armor really started to prove itself. Their ears began to fill with clattering, scraping and tapping, as the razor-sharp branches and leaves assailed them and bounced off. Blow after blow was warded off by the armor plates, and more and more nicks and dings and scratches and abrasions appeared in the surface. But each mar was only surface deep; none of the blades were getting more than a few millimeters into the plastic, as their branches simply weren't stiff enough to push them deeper.

Working wonderfully.

But this constant barrage wasn't the hardest part of the journey. The ground beneath their feet was becoming… Strange. It wasn't a flat surface anymore, or even what passed for 'flat' in normal forests. This was uneven; rough; chaotic. Every available surface was either a root, a branch, or some ancient deadfall. The heaping masses of living and dead metal rose and fell in miniature hills and valleys below them, entwining with itself, and hiding all else, even the dirt and the rocks. The ecosystem had consumed the very landscape.

There came to a point where a thicket of trees and bushes formed a sort of short cliff, and the only way to walk through was to climb a few feet up a tree, do some tricky footwork across the bows, and descend the other side. Wendy climbed up ahead of Dipper, wrapped an arm around a higher branch, and extended her other down to him. They gripped each other's wrists, and she hauled him up beside her.

"Ugh." Dipper said. "Why's everything getting so… Like… I mean, where's the ground?"

"If I had to guess…" Wendy looked around. "I'd say the actual ground is about 5 or 10 feet below the roots and logs we're walking on. But just, like… When the old trees topple over, new trees use their remains for food, and grow right in the same place. And then those new trees-on-trees fall over too, and more grow on top of them, yadda yadda, right? …So over the years…" She steadied herself against the trunk, and jumped across a short gap. "It just stacks on top of itself."

"Uh… That makes sense…" Dipper made the same jump right behind her, and would have lost his balance if she hadn't caught him. "Why don't normal forests do that, then?"

Wendy shrugged. "Normal forests do that too. Especially the old-growth forests, where my dad takes us hiking… That's how I know."

"Yeah, but… So why is this place such a tangled, deep mess? Normal forests are usually pretty flat."

"I dunno… It's probably because there's no forest fires around here. In normal forests, a big 'ol fire washes through about every 50 years, and cleans up all the deadfalls."

"Huh… Yeah… And it might be because rain and water doesn't dissolve or wash the rotten chemicals away." Dipper theorized. "Everything is… Everything's all solid. Normal life is based on liquid water, so things kind of… Rot away easier. But here, it's all frozen in place. Static."

"Ooh, that's a good theory."

Wendy reached a place where they could descend out of the tree, and back down to the 'ground'. So she took a jump, aiming for a patch of grass. But when she landed on it, it gave way beneath her with a loud snap and creak. She lost control of her descent, and began falling further than intended.

"Wendy!" Dipper yelped.

But she didn't fall far; only up to her armpits.

"Agh! DANG it!" She winced, as she tried to get her elbows under her. "Ow."

Dipper descended more carefully, ran up to her, and offered his hand. "Are you okay?! Did… Like… Did anything stab… Uh…"

"Ugh…" She took his hand, and pulled herself out of the hole. "Oh, ow, that's gonna leave a bruise. Take note: this is all very hard. It hurts to land on."

"Yeah… Are you okay though?"

"Uh… Yeah. I'm fine… I'm not skewered like a pig, if that's what you're wondering."

"Err… Yeah… Okay."

Wendy looked back down at the hole. The grassy landing pad had been growing in a gap between two fallen logs. When she'd hit it, the impact had knocked the smaller vegetation loose, leaving a sort of tunnel. Down in the gap, they heard something alive move about, then clatter away from them, off through the ground.

"So…" Dipper frowned. "If the forest is made of a whole bunch of stacked logs, are there tunnels and gaps all through it then? Like, I'm sure this isn't the only place where the grass is loose."

"Yeah… It's like… Like a 'Super Plumber Bros.' game." Wendy said. "We have to hop and jump between platforms, because there's pits and spikes and crumbly parts everywhere below you."

"It's kind of scarier when it's not in a video game." Dipper noted.

They stood staring for a minute.

"So…" Wendy said. "Are we gonna go down there, or what?"

"Uh… Well, did you see anything cool down there?"

"Uh…" She reached back into the hole, and came up holding some fat, round plants. "Nothing but some… What are these? Fruit? Mushrooms? I don't know. But they were down there."

"Heh. Okay."

She shoved them in her backpack, and they continued onwards above ground. High in the treetops above them, a small herd of five-armed 'monkeys' glance down with curiosity. Dipper waved up in a friendly way, but the harmless little animals didn't respond. Instead, they just went back to cutting up and eating little bits off the tree branches.

After a while, they sat down beside a log to rest for a minute. Dipper reached into his backpack and pulled out his walkie-talkie. Ford had been kind of nervous about them going in alone, so it would be good to let him know everything's all right. Hoping the signal would reach, he pushed the radio's button and began to speak. "Hey Ford, just calling to let you know we're all—"

As soon as the radio signal left the device, the forest leapt to life around them, and the teens realized that they'd accidentally wandered directly into the center of a large herd of pony-sized robot creatures.

Dipper hadn't even noticed them ahead of time. Their spiny backs and long heads were colored and textured in an identical brown/grey to the rest of the trees, and the solar panel arrays on their tails looked a lot like those of the living bushes.

Nearly perfect camouflage. Perfect for sneaking up on people and attacking.

But they didn't attack. If anything, they seemed as confused and startled as Dipper and Wendy were. Most of them stood in place with their antennae out, scanning side to side. The others watched the scanning ones, unsure if they should be panicked or not.

Dipper could see that no attack was forthcoming, but he didn't want to provoke them anyway, so he turned his walkie-talkie off entirely, and returned it to his backpack.

One nearby creature seemed to notice them visually. It turned toward them, and approached until it was about 10 feet away. The teens stood up slowly, ready to fight or run if it did anything aggressive. Dipper wasn't sure if they were in danger, however. Unlike the robot lion, which was sharp and hooked all over, this creature appeared entirely unarmed. It had no saws in its mouth, just a set of clamp-like jaws. Even its feet lacked claws; the fingers were short and stubby, almost like hooves.

Dipper supposed it could try to ram them with its gigantic, long head, but other than that it appeared perfectly harmless.

"So…" Wendy said. "It's a herbivore, or what?"

"Well, it doesn't have saws… Yeah, I think it's harmless." Dipper took out a disposable camera, covered up the light to prevent startling it with a flash, and began snapping pictures.

Wendy remembered the 'fruit' in her backpack. "Uh… Hey big guy… You want this?" She pulled out the food, and held it out to the creature. It shied away at first, then its antennae perked up, and it took a few steps closer. "Okay." Wendy said. "Yeah. Herbivore."

"It's just, like, a robot deer or something." Dipper said, and took another picture as it got close.

Then the creature opened its mouth. There was another mouth inside its mouth, and this second system shot outward about two feet and snagged the food out of Wendy's hand.

"AGH!" Dipper yelped.

"Woah!" Wendy jerked her hand back.

The robot held the fruit in its first set of jaws, and began to grind at it with a drill bit in its second. When it was through, it took another step toward them, as if asking for more.

"Okay…" Wendy said. "Yeah. Still a robot deer… It just…"

"It has a head that looks like a Xenomorph." Dipper observed, and took another picture.

"Yeah."

"Nothing wrong with that."

"No."

"Just kind of weird."

"Yeah."

"Kind of freaky."

"Yeah."

It took another step towards them. "No." Wendy said, as the deer/xenomorph thing got closer. "NO. Nothing more. No more fruit or stuff. Go away."

It extended its second mouth again, and turned to Dipper. _Okay._ He thought, suddenly nervous. _Its head is 4 feet long. That means its mouth can pop out 4 feet. Which means it can probably reach me from here… And it can definitely reach my…_

The mouth shot out again, aiming for Dipper's camera. He jerked it out of the way as fast as he could, and the deer's drills did nothing but nick the chest of his armor.

"Hey." Wendy stepped forward. "Shoo. Come on dude, shoo. Shoo. No more food. Take your weird long drill head, and take it way out of here. Go on, git." She put a hand on top of its head, and pushed it away. It shook her hand off, and took another step inward.

"HEY!" Wendy yelled at it. "SHOO!"

It didn't have ears, so the yelling was slightly less than effective.

"Yo." Dipper brought his gauntlet down on top of its head. Not quite a punch, but almost. "Shoo!"

Its body was very hard and tough, so a measly half-punch wasn't all that effective either. It turned toward him.

"Okay, look stupid thing." Wendy said. "I'm like, up to _here_ with your crap right now. Why don't you…"

Just then, her words were cut off by a sudden noise, coming from the North; a clattering, and banging. The robot deer froze, extended its antennae all the way, and looked off in that same direction. All the other deer in the forest did similar.

The noise changed to a grinding, abrasive noise; the sound of saws.

All the deer tucked their long heads down close to their bodies, fanned out their solar panels like warning flags, and sprinted off through the trees to the south. In a matter of seconds, they were gone, and all that remained was some flattened grass, and some pictures on the camera.

Dipper and Wendy turned toward the sound of the noise, and crouched down behind a tree trunk. "You think that's…?"

Wendy nodded. "Dude, I bet it IS! Let's go see!"

They carefully began to crawl their way through the trees, staying behind logs and bushes whenever possible.

The finally stopped about 30 feet from the sound, and made themselves as hidden as possible.

"Magnet guns." Wendy told him.

They both drew their weapons. (Not to use, just to have.) Dipper drew his camera as well.

And then they peaked over.

A deer robot lay on the forest floor, mangled and broken. Two full-grown lion-bots stood over it, digging into its torso with their massive saws. Sparks, debris, metal shavings, and bits of oil flew all over the place, as the deer's motors, batteries, and functional parts slowly but surely disappeared into its killers.

The lions were pleasantly ignoring the humans for the moment, so they got comfortable and kept watching. Dipper lined up his camera, and began snapping pictures, while Wendy took a good look at the creatures themselves.

One was Juan's mom. It had the damage that her dad had given it in the fight, as well as the 'mom parts' that Mabel had first pointed out.

The other was 'male', judging by the lack of these same parts. The male was slightly bigger, with a slightly shorter torso, longer antennae, and lighter coloring.

But curiously, although they'd never even seen this male before, it still had some damage; damage they didn't give it. The plating on its right side was dented and twisted by a big, burned crater, partially exposing the hydraulics beneath. As if somebody had hit him with a grenade or a flamethrower or a… Laser blaster or something.

"Hey." Wendy whispered.

"What?" Dipper looked over at her.

Wendy pointed to the blast mark, and shrugged. "Eh?"

"Uh…" Dipper frowned at it, and then shrugged. "Maybe there's creatures out here with built-in ray guns?"

"…We should look out for that."

"Yeah."

And then Dipper's phone rang.

* * *

Ford nervously drummed the six fingers of his hand against the table, while he waited for his great-nephew to pick up. _What's taking so long? Dipper's usually pretty punctual about answering…_

"Hey!" Stan called from the next room. "Did you ask Dipper yet?"

"Trying now!" Ford covered up the speaker and hollered back. "Just calm down Stan; it's probably no big deal…"

"But it _could_ be a big deal!" Stan reminded him. "You need to get a hold of him!"

"But he's not picking up! He's—"

Ford suddenly remembered just where Dipper was: an alien forest where the dangerous creatures heard and smelled through radio and electrical signals. _Wait a minute, why is his phone even on at all?_ Ford wondered. _If Dipper had any sense at all, he would have shut it off entirely. If anybody called him, the signals it shared with the cell tower could give away his position… Oh well. He must have just forgotten._

 _WAIT A MINUTE!_ Ford frowned as a new thought entered his mind. _I just called him! Oh dear… I might have actually have put him danger, just by doing that… Oh my…_

Ford was about to hang up, when suddenly Dipper's voice sounded over the speaker. "HEYGREATUNCLEFORD THISREALLYISNTHEBESTTIME COULDICALLYOUBACK?"

"Dipper! I'm glad you're all right! Listen, this is fairly imp—"

"NOTTHEBESTTIME!" Dipper repeated. "WENDY! HIDE DOWN THERE! I'LL FOLLOW YOU! GO GO GO!"

He heard the sound of a magnet gun discharge over the line. And in the background, was that the sound of saws?

"I'll make it fast!" Ford promised. "Dipper, have you—"

Dipper hung up.

"Have you seen…" Ford looked at the phone for a second. He really had just hung up. He must actually have been in trouble… Ford closed the phone and slipped it back into his pocket. In the parlor's new silence, he finished his sentence quietly to himself. "…Have you seen Mabel…"

* * *

A few hours earlier, Robbie's head bounced side to side as his van rolled its bumpy way back down the roads, leaving Dipper and Wendy at the end of the trail at the top.

As he drove, a great many dark and edgy thoughts were going through his mind. _Dipper is such a jerk… I could beat him in a fight… I wish I had… He just cheated… Wendy and I could have made it work… I didn't mean to hypnotize her… Well, kind of… Well I only half meant to… Has Wendy ever forgiven me…? And what's with those two now? They're doing all this stuff together alone, and Dipper got rid of me today just because I'm intruding on their 'alone time'... If they didn't mean for me to come along, why would they throw in a 3rd empty backpack?_

 _Wait a minute, they said it wasn't theirs… Who packed it then? And why would they pack nothing but some glitter?_

"Hold on." Robbie mumbled, as he glanced over his shoulder.

To his surprise, he didn't see the back of his van. He saw a young girl's face, about 2 inches from his.

"HELLO!" She announced, more than loud enough.

"Ah geez there's a kid in here!" The van almost crashed into a tree as he stomped into the brake pedal. When the vehicle was safely back under control and stationary, he turned back to address his stowaway. "What the heck? Why are you here?!" He asked. His brain worked through this new development. "You stowed yourself away in a backpack…? Wait, that doesn't even make any sense! How did you load it into the van while you were still inside it?" He demanded.

 _What's her name again?_ He racked his brain. _I don't quite remember, she's just kind of the 'Girly Dipper' that set me up for a date one time… Well, I hate Dipper but I like girls, so… I don't know…_

"Oh, pshaw! You crack me up sometimes!" Girly Dipper rolled her eyes upwards as she leaned one cheek into her elbow with a mysterious grin. "Sneaking myself past the closed and locked doors from inside a backpack… That was the easy part! The hard part was fitting a pig in there too!" She produced a full-grown pig, which promptly emitted a loud snort.

"AGH! PIG IN MY VAN!" Robbie tried to stand up, and bumped his hair on the ceiling.

"And if you're wondering how I did _that_ … Well." Girl Dipper smiled again. "You should really check out my YouTube video: 'Mabel's Guide to Showing Up in unexpected times and Places'."

"Uh…"

"Yeah! It's super informative! And a masterpiece, if I do say so myself. A true classic."

"Okay…" Robbie sat back down hesitantly.

"So… Riddle me this, my gnarly old friend." She abruptly changed the subject. "I guess Dipper and Wendy don't want you going on their thing, huh?"

"Uhh…" Robbie squirmed rebelliously. "I didn't even… Like… Wanna go on their stupid thing anyway. If I wanted to roll around in knives all day I would've just ransacked my dad's morgue…"

"Well… If you don't want to do that, how would you feel about helping me collect stuff?" She reached into her sweater and pulled out a map, scrawled all over Dipper's handwriting. "Not as much danger, but the work is more important. And we'll make lots of new robot friends!"

"Huh?"

"See, sometimes I don't think Dipper trusts me." The girl admitted with a shrug. "Maybe he's right not to… Sometimes. 'Cause we all do silly stuff that's not very smart… But… But this time, I think _he's_ wrong. 'Cause see, he wants to, like, kill the robot creatures and stuff like that… And I don't think that's really all super ethical or whatever. So I… I have another mission. A happier, funner mission… So what do you say, Mr. Buddy-Pal-Chum-Friend-Pal?" She gave him a gentle little punch on the shoulder. "Would you consider being my dark, edgy chauffeur/bodyguard for a day?"

"Uh…" Robbie frowned. "Uh… I guess…?"

"Awesome!" She squealed.

"SQUEE!" The pig squealed.

The girl then reached over Robbie's shoulder, and put the van in 'park'. "Let's go do this thing!"

* * *

HOT DAWG we've got TWO illustrations for this chapter! (replace spaces with periods)

www deviantart com/codylabs/art/The-Forest-of-Daggers-698878133

www deviantart com/codylabs/art/Forest-of-Daggers-Chapter-12-745188392


	13. The Tunnels of NOPE

_Author's note:_ Hey, who here remembers that 2005 movie 'King Kong'? I can't speak for the new one since I haven't seen it, but the 2005 one was a totally GREAT show. I'd recommend it to anyone over 13.

Well. If you _haven't_ seen it, and are confused about what I'm driving at, just watch this video here: www youtube com/watch?v=covYNPR2XJs (replace the spaces with periods, and turn your computer screens away from the faint-of-heart.)

If you _have_ seen the movie, then I'm sure you know exactly what I when I say the words 'BUG PIT'.

So.

Yeah.

And, as always, killer robots make everything better. On with the story!

* * *

Dipper and Wendy broke through the ground, fell about 5 feet, and landed hard on top of each other. The lion bots arrived at the crevice a few seconds later, and angrily pressed their heads up to the opening. Their saws extended and spun, trying to reach down at the escaped humans. Sparks and metal shavings showered around them, and the sound of their enemies' assault filled their ears. But despite all the racket and the show, there were too many logs, branches, and mess between the humans and the hungry weapons. They couldn't reach.

"HA! YEAH!" Wendy rose to her knees, looked up at their pursuers, and shouted over the noise. "FOILED AGAIN, JERKS!"

Dipper crawled out from underneath his friend, and looked around.

When the predators had noticed them a few minutes ago, the teens didn't really have an abundance of escape options. This was the first one that popped into Dipper's head, and so this was where they went: great mass of deadfalls and decayed metal which wove together beneath the forest's floor. Here, in the hard, sharp, claustrophobic space, they would be safe from their larger pursuers.

Dipper crawled through a narrow gap between two logs, just to get away from the lion's falling sparks. Wendy squeezed her way in after them, and they found themselves in an even smaller hollow, that seemed to extend on for a ways. The only light down here was that which filtered down through cracks and crevices, and that which they brought themselves. As they paused to catch their breath, Dipper pulled his headlamp out of his pack and thumbed it on.

Behind and above them, the lions' saws fell silent, as they realized their prey had escaped. Faint metallic footsteps echoed through the thicket now, as they prowled away; most likely back to the 'deer' they'd been interrupted from eating.

Dipper turned himself over, and rubbed his arm where he'd bumped it on the way down. "I think we lost them."

"Well that's super." Wendy squeezed her shoulder pads sideways, trying to get comfortable.

"What's their beef anyway?" Dipper asked. "I mean, we did kind of accidentally sort of steal her kid, but…"

"And kind of shot at her and stuff…"

"Well, yeah… But she tried to eat us even _before_ that… How about the other one then? We've never even _seen_ him before."

"I guess they're just really… Really angry, territorial creatures… Like wolverines. Or crocodiles, or… Grizzly bears or Corduroys or something. They just loose it when you mess around in their business."

"Uh… Yeah… I guess…"

"So what now?" Wendy shrugged, and gestured toward the winding, maze-like darkness ahead. "We just crawl around down here until we're far enough away?"

"I guess…"

"Well then." She gestured ahead with a little flourish of her hand. "Ladies first."

Dipper laughed, and elbowed her as he crawled past. She snorted and elbowed him back, then they continued on, while the light from the surface faded behind them…

* * *

"So where is this place?" Robbie asked, as he stepped cautiously around an ordinary fern. "Which of these are… Made of knives or whatever?"

"Umm…" Mabel squinted down at the creased, stained paper of Dipper's old map. "This stupid poop-headed map doesn't even have a 'you are here' dealio…" She complained.

"Aww man!" Robbie scoffed. "Every map should have that marked… That's just, like, normal. All the maps in the _mall_ have them."

"I know! They're so handy…" Mabel turned the map around a few times, hoping it would start to make some sense.

Robbie pulled out his smartphone. "Maybe… Yeah, _this_ one tells me where we are. Maybe we can match them…?"

They compared the phone's image to the map's, argued for a few minutes about which direction North was, and finally decided that they were very, very close.

"Hmm…?" Mabel turned around a few times. "Maybe if I close my eyes and concentrate really hard, I'll be able to use my brain to sense the psychic empathetic signals of their love. Because all robot animals love me." She squeezed her eyes shut and pressed her fingers to her temples. (A classic and proven psychic pose.) "It's science." She promised. "I know because I saw it on Star Trek."

Robbie leaned back against a tree to wait. "Yeah." He grunted. "Because that's gonna work."

"It'll totally work."

"Will not."

"Will too."

"Will not."

"Shush! You're interrupting the love waves."

"Ugh, this is so… Hey wait a minute." It didn't take Robbie long to realize that the tree behind his back wasn't wood. "Oh hey." He turned around and poked it. "We're already here."

"I TOLD YOU IT WOULD WORK!" Mabel jumped up with an excited squeal, and high-fived her pig.

"Oh come on. That didn't-"

"THIS IS SO COOL!" Squeaked Mabel, as she rushed forward to start poking and prodding at things. "We can be explorers and robo-botanists and we can—Oh wait a minute. Hold on." She turned to her pig and bent down. "I just remembered!" She told him. "You're fat and naked! You need to be shielded by a… Huggy-Wuvvy Tummy Bundle™!"

"A what." Robbie frowned.

"IT WORKS FOR PIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIGS™!" She explained. Then she reached under her sweater, and produced a baby-blue pig-pack, which she then strapped to herself and loaded the pig into. Waddles did not seem to mind this in the least, whereas Robbie looked on with disgust and confusion. "Uh… Remind me." He said. "Why do we have a pig again?"

"Well…" She looked at the pig. It looked at her. They both looked at Robbie. "We just do." She assured him. "And we love him and now you love him too because you must. That's the way things roll when you're under Mabel jurisdiction!"

"Great."

With her pet safe, Mabel continued into the forest to start her work. This 'work' mainly just involved finding new types of metal plants and tiny robots, playing with them for a minute, then tossing a specimen into the backpack Robbie was carrying.

After a while of this, Robbie looked around again.

"Ugh… Man." He brought up a hand to block the beautiful sunlight, and squinted grumpily around at the gentle swaying of the bright green leaves. How was this a dangerous, nightmarish place? It was… Beautiful and pleasant… "I was expecting, like… Skulls or something." He protested sulkily.

"Skulls?" Mabel asked.

"Like, you know." Robbie shrugged. "Impaled on spikes or lying on the ground… Or skeletons up in trees or something. Or I was expecting it to actually look like knives… Right? Or to be all dark and cloudy? Or the air to smell like death? Or it to be scary at all…? I can't be the only one thinking that, right?"

"Like… Why would there be skulls?" Mabel asked. "Where would the skulls have come from?"

"Like… Like from all the people who've died here…? Like, there's always skulls in, like, movies and stuff…" Robbie frowned, as he realized most of his expertise in the matter was coming from _Arkansas Jim_ , _King of the Jewels_ and _Lord Ape_. "Come on, you know. There's gotta be skulls somewhere, right?"

Mabel considered this for a bit. "I don't knoooooooow…" She said. " _If_ anybody ever _did_ die here, their friends would have gone looking for them and found this place. But since Dippingsauce and Wendoid were the first ones to find it, I don't think anybody has…"

"Ugh…" Robbie glowered, and turned a shoulder. "You know you were expecting skulls."

* * *

"Oh, hey look." Dipper said. "A skull."

Wendy shone her headlamp past him to inspect the find. Sure enough, there was a massive, metal skull blocking their passage, about the size of a car tire. It didn't have nostrils, but made up for it with about a hundred eye sockets, all around its head.

Truly other-worldly.

"Well." Wendy said. "That's kind of weird… Why would there be a skull down here?"

"Eh…" Dipper shrugged. "Skulls are never quite where you expect them… Like, I was looking at ancient runes down in a cave one time, and I found this one giant skull with big, huge horns. It startled me so bad I dropped my light."

"Oh yeah?" Wendy said. "I never heard that story. What happened then?"

"Oh… Uh… I… Uh… I couldn't see, so I left the cave. That's the whole story."

"Really?"

"Yeah."

"…That's the most pointless story ever." She informed him. "Of all time."

"Uh… Yeah." Dipper shrugged. "That's probably why I forgot all about it until just now."

"No doubt." Wendy crawled forward, and placed her hands on the skull. If they were to continue on, they had to get it out of the way. "Uh…" She grunted with effort as she tried to push it backwards, or pull it towards them, but it was jammed pretty tightly in the tunnel. After a minute of struggling, she managed to at least tilt it backwards slightly, and then lever its jaw open. "Oh hey!" She said, pointing to the new opening. "We can just crawl through its mouth."

"Uh…"

"C'mon, it's just crawling inside something dead. Nothing crazy or anything. Maggots and stuff do it all the time."

"Well… Ladies first."

"Ha ha, shut up man."

They managed to fit their way through the massive jaws, and found themselves at the start of a wider, more uniform tunnel.

This new tunnel was almost circular, and tall enough that they could crawl on their hands and knees (instead of their bellies). The bottom half of it was filled with loose dirt, mud, and metal shavings, as if back when it was drilled, the excess material had all just been ground to dust and left where it sat.

"Hey, uh… Is it just me or are the walls super weird?" Wendy asked.

"Umm…" Dipper shone his light around. "Yeah, they're pretty weird… I guess the—OH WOAH, these aren't walls! These are ribs! Ribs and armor it looks like."

"Oh… Yeah they are, aren't they? Something really giant died down here."

"Yeah. Right in the middle of cutting the tunnel I guess."

"Huh… Well, what is it? Like a giant mole?"

"Maybe more of an Earthworm… Ish? I mean, I don't see any legs…"

"Huh… Cool…"

On the other side of the dead creature, they found themselves starting into a labyrinth of similar tunnels. These ones weren't lined with ribs, of course, but they were all roughly the same width. Evidently, all had been dug by the 'worm' creatures…

"So this is how the forest 'rots'." Dipper observed. "Just like we were talking about earlier. There may not be any forest fires or floods, but these giant earthworm-type-things just routinely come through and grind everything down… They're the recycling mechanism. Turning the metal tree-trunks back into this dusty soil…"

"Fascinating." Wendy lied.

"But I wonder what eats the worms, when they die? I'm guessing it's something pretty small, which is why the larger structure like the ribs and skull were leftover…"

"…Man, your sister is totally right. You're a nerd."

"Yeah, well… Yeah."

Since their compass didn't work very well with so much iron around, they picked an arbitrary direction and started into the maze.

Plant and animal life seemed to flourish in the dust the worms left behind. Many of the tunnels and passages were tangled or outright blocked with roots, vines, or moss. And all around them, tiny robotic insects darted in and around the logs and plants, buzzing and beeping at the passing humans.

Eventually Wendy stopped, and Dipper halted behind her. He rubbed his sore knees as well as he could, and asked. "What's the holdup?"

"SHH! Listen…"

Back behind them in the darkness, she'd heard motion. And now Dipper heard it too: clicking, buzzing, hissing… Dipper turned over on his butt and shone his headlamp past his feet, to see what lay back down the tunnel.

The rough metal walls had transformed into a writhing mass of sharp legs and silvery, domed shells. Hundreds, perhaps thousands, of rat-sized robotic insects were crawling out of the walls, digging their sharp feet into cracks in the ceiling and floor, blinking their tiny red eyes, and scuttling toward the two humans. Tiny saws and hooks caught the light from their headlamps and reflected back at them, twinkling and glittering like stars.

"Ooh." Wendy said.

"Augh!" Dipper said.

There are certain primal fears that are programmed very deep into every human brain. In simpler times, before man had so tamed and civilized the world around him, these fears had helped him survive. They had taught him to seek light instead of darkness. To flee from the swarming ant and poisonous spider. To respect the threat of teeth and blades. Man has retained these fears up to the modern day, and they may still be awoken when the need presents itself.

You may understand, then, why Dipper totally lost his cool when he saw these insects advancing. He kicked his legs to move away from them, and ran the back of his head directly into Wendy's butt. "AGH!" He yelped. "The-! Bugs! Lots of bugs!"

"I'm going, I'm going…!" Wendy began to crawl faster, with Dipper immediately behind her. They were off their knees now, scrambling on their hands and feet while their armor clattered clumsily against the walls and ceiling.

For a while its seemed they were moving as fast as their pursuers, even outrunning them. But soon, even more bugs began to crawl out of the walls _ahead_ of them, forcing them to a standstill. The enemy was everywhere. They were surrounded.

Dipper caught movement in the corner of his eye, and turned just in time to see a bug squeeze itself out of a crack right next to his head. He reached for his magnet gun, but before he'd gotten it leveled in the tiny space, the creature had launched itself forward and hooked onto his helmet's visor. Its front legs reached past the bars and scratched savagely at his face. He fell to his back in surprise, dropped the gun, and tried to grasp the animal's slippery, round shell long enough to pull it off. Its legs were leaving scratches on his face, and knocked his safety glasses loose.

By the time he removed this first attacker, a cut in his forehead was bleeding into his eyes, his entire head was in agony, and more bugs were climbing onto him from every direction. His heart began to race as he struggled to free himself, and he descended ever closer to complete panic…

Wendy, meanwhile, was dealing with about 15 bugs that had all hooked onto her right arm. The creatures weighed about 20 pounds all together, and the weight was making the limb almost impossible to use. She tried to smash her arm into the walls, hoping to kill the bugs or at least knock them loose. But that didn't really work. Every time she got one off, two more would crawl back on. She could feel them tearing at the gauntlet on her arm, trying to cut it open and explore what lay beneath.

A few bugs crawled onto her back, and she forgot about her arm for a few seconds to remove them. But by the time she turned her attention back to her arm, she found that she wasn't able to move it at all. Past the insects, she caught the glint of tiny metal cables, running from her gauntlet to the tunnel wall. More cables seemed to be appearing all the time, as the creatures moved over her, laying them down from tiny spools in their mouths.

 _Oh._ She thought. _They're tying me down. They know they're not big or strong enough to take me when I'm still moving, so they're doing the only thing they can… They're wrapping me up to eat me. Like spiders._

She managed to get her axe out of her belt using her free arm, and brought the blade down hard on the nearest insect. Its shell cracked, and it scrambled away; one less to deal with. She turned to her right arm now, and began to chop at the creatures crawling on it. One by one they scuttled off, and finally she was able to get a clear shot at the cables.

But it didn't work. The wires were too tough for the axe. When she chopped at them, they just stretched and buckled and made a ' _thwang_ ' noise like guitar strings, and they didn't break. The insects began to crawl back onto her now, making it harder and harder to concentrate on her arm. She couldn't get it free.

Now out of options, she decided to go for the next best thing: she grabbed the latches on the gauntlet, and popped it loose.

Her naked arm came free of the armor. Now that she was able to move again, she scrambled up the tunnel and away from the threat. Behind her, the insects swarmed the gauntlet and began to eat it. Others realized what happened and turned to follow her, but only about 3 remained attached to her. She made short work of them.

She continued without hesitation. It was too bad she had to leave the piece of protection behind, but really, it was a small price to pay for survival… At least she and Dipper had both… Both…

She's made it about ten meters up the tunnel when she suddenly froze. _Wait, where was Dipper?_

She looked backwards, and her light illuminated nothing but swarming masses of insects.

DANG IT!

She tucked her unprotected arm into her shirt as best she could, and started back into the fray, swinging and chopping at anything that approached. "DIPPER!" She yelled past the masses. "DIPPER ARE YOU THERE?! ARE YOU OKAY?!"

As for Dipper, he thrashed about in futility. His left leg had already been tied down to the wall, as had his left arm, and they were working hard on his right leg. All over, he could feel their mouth saws and hooks drilling and plucking at the armor and clothes. It didn't hurt, not yet, but the creatures were heavy, and constantly moving, and shifting, and poking and prodding. He had a feeling that they were very close to making it past the armor. So very close…

His heart was racing, and his lungs were heaving, and he was quite a bit beyond panic at this point. Nothing was working… Nothing was working! He'd dropped the magnet gun, and he couldn't reach his backpack, and he couldn't think of anything else to try, so he just squirmed and smashed with his fists and beat himself against the walls and tried to move… But nothing was working!

The creatures had already cut through his headlamp, so he now found himself in utter darkness, with nothing to see except the racing, flickering dots of light from his attackers' eyes, and the occasional brief flashes as they welded down the ends of more webs. On top of that, the blood from his forehead was running down into his eyes and blinding him even further. The world was a confusing, chaotic blur of murderous glowing eyes, slashing knife-like legs, and tiny spinning saws. All he could hear was the scuttling and the clicking and the scratching and the drilling, all of it screaming in his ears, all of it deafening him and harassing him, pressing in savagely and unrelentingly.

His attackers were fast, strong, ubiquitous, unopposable…

There was nothing he could do!

"DIPPER!" From somewhere up ahead, he heard his name cut through the chaos. "DIPPER ARE YOU THERE?! ARE YOU OKAY?!"

Wendy's voice.

"UH!" He gasped hoarsely. "WENDY! WENDY HELP! HELP!"

A bug's saw made it through his shirt in his armpit, and drew blood. He cranked his arm down on it, forcing it to pull out and go somewhere else. But it had left a wound.

As well as he could, he curled himself into the fetal position to shield his face, torso, and the thin parts of his gloves. His left arm and leg remained extended, tied down.

"DUDE!" She told him. "TALK TO ME!"

"I- HELP!" He yelled. "WENDY! THEY'RE EVERYWHERE! MY LIGHT'S OUT! YOU HAVE TO HELP ME!" Another one was on his helmet now, and another was ripping at an uncomfortable part of his pants. He would have kicked it away, but he didn't want to risk compromising his torso and face by extending a limb. "PLEASE COME!" He said.

"I CAN'T SEE YOU!" She told him. "DIPPER YOU HAVE TO LISTEN TO ME! YOU HAVE THE MAGNET GUN! IT'S THE ONLY WEAPON WE HAVE TO FIGHT THEM!"

"I CAN'T! I DROPPED IT! I CAN'T SEE! I…!"

"DUDE!" Her voice suddenly snapped to a harsh, authoritative tone. "LISTEN TO ME!"

"HELP!"

"CLOSE YOUR EYES! FOCUS ON ME!" With nothing else to do, Dipper did as instructed. Now that the world was perfectly black again, it was ever-so-slightly simpler. He didn't need his eyes anymore. All he needed was his ears and his hands. So he focused his ears. He focused them on her. He held onto her.

Once he'd pointed his brain toward this task, his breathing began to stabilize. "OH… OKAY…" He said.

"NOW!" She told him. "YOU'RE NOT GOING TO DIE!"

He wasn't? He could feel bug's saws breaking through the armor in places, and tangling in his shirt and pants. How long did he have? How would he not die here?

"TELL IT TO ME!" She said. "TELL ME YOU'RE NOT!"

"I'm… I'm not going to die…"

"WHAT?"

"I'M NOT GOING TO DIE!"

The bugs were nicking his skin in places. At first it was like being pricked by needles, but then it became quite a bit worse. Yet through the pain, he hung onto Wendy's promise, and he believed her.

"YOUR GUN CAN'T HAVE GONE FAR!" She told him.

She was right. He took a deep breath, and began to un-curl from the fetal position. He knew it left his face exposed, but he remembered where the gun was. He extended his free hand down to the ground by his right side, and his palm touched the gun.

"I GOT IT!" He said.

"PICK IT UP!"

His fingers around the handle..

"FLIP IT TO PULSE!"

He flipped it to pulse.

"FIRE IT!"

The tunnel all around him lit up with blue light, and the air snapped with the sharp sound of the weapon's electrical discharge. All the creatures that had been on him, or in his vicinity, jumped and twitched all at once.

In an instant, their red eyes all went dark. Their scratching, clawing, digging little legs stopped moving, and their tiny saws stopped spinning. The insects that had been climbing on the ceiling went limp and fell off, clattering noisily to the ground on top of the others.

Everything was dead.

Everything was dead…

Dipper shook himself, and found that, finally, his attackers were falling from his back. He was so exhausted and relieved that he just sagged to the floor and gasped for breath.

In the new silent stillness, he opened his eyes. And he saw a light shining up ahead. It was accompanied by the sound of whacking and chopping, as Wendy took out whatever enemies the pulse had missed. Then the light turned in his direction, and started towards him.

When she reached him, she set the light between them, and took off her helmet. Together, they began to work on the cables that were tying him down. The ones on his arms unhooked and snapped loose one by one, slowly but surely. The bindings on his legs were next, and those came easier. Once most of them were removed, he was able to kick loose of the last few.

Then, he was free.

He and Wendy sat back in the mud and looked at each other.

He was still partially blinded by the blood dripping down off his forehead, and by the tears he'd shed in his terror. He tried to reach a glove up underneath his visor to wipe it off, but it didn't really fit up in there, and his glove was so covered in grit that it just added to the mess, and his hands were shaking. "Uh…" He said.

"Yeah." She reached forward, and removed his helmet too. Then she untucked a corner of her shirt from her armor, and wiped the blood, mud and tears from his face.

He blinked, shook his head, and found he could see clearly. So he took a deep breath. Then another. Then he looked up and met her eyes.

"Hey dude." She said.

"H-hey…"

"Your hands are shaking, dude."

"Yeah, I…" He looked down at them. He _was_ shook up. He could feel his heart running rampant in his chest, as if wanting to burst out. "I… I… Thanks…" He stuttered. "C-c-can I hug you?"

"Uh…" She frowned for a second. Then she shrugged, and spread her arms. "Sure, I guess…"

He fell into her, and wrapped his arms around her armored torso. "Wendy, I thought I was gonna die…!" He blurted. "I'm sorry I panicked but I dropped the gun and my light got ate and they were drilling at my privates and I couldn't move and nothing was working and I thought I was gonna die…"

"Hey… Like, yo." She put her arms around his shoulders, and gave him a pat. "Naw, man. We've been through worse than this… Gotta take more than a few robot bugs to eat US, right?"

"Ugh…"

"Right? Right."

"I… Uh… Uh… I don't know… I'm… I'm sorry I panicked… Thanks. Thanks for telling me what to do…"

"Hey man… It's… Like… Fine. Usually it's _you_ giving orders, right? And that's always turned out all right."

"Uh… I guess…"

"So call this me returning the favor, huh? We help each other up when we fall. We're there for each other. 'Cause that's just what friends do. Right? We got each others' backs. No matter what."

"Okay…" He shuddered. "I'm sorry."

"Hey. Dude." She terminated the hug early, and held his shoulders out at arm's length. "You're not gonna die today." She told him. "You've got a big, bright future ahead of you. You're gonna go to college, get some degree, get that one great job you always wanted. Something that uses your talents, something you love… You're gonna settle down, raise a family, and do the world some serious good with that brain and that heart of yours. You're gonna grow up to be somebody someday, you hear me? And that's why you ain't gonna die in a hole today. That's not how this story ends. That's not your future."

"Yeah?"

"I promise."

"…But how do you know? I could die… People die all the time…"

"Eh." She gave him another little pat, then released him, and turned to climb up the tunnel. "Have a little faith, bro. And come on, we need to get moving."

He shook his head, as he realized their little moment was passed. And now that the adrenaline had drained from his system, he felt his brain settle back into familiar paths. He took one final deep breath, then crawled after her. "Heh heh… Yeah." He hazarded a joke. "We should probably be going. That was getting a little too cliché, don't you think?"

"Yeah, well, it was the best cliché I could think up on the fly. And it's better than the alternative."

"…What's the alternative?"

"That _other_ thing coming up behind you to eat you."

Dipper spun around.

About twenty meters back, a massive, sharp mouth was advancing up the tunnel. The mouth was filled with spinning drills, ringed by tiny red eyes, and was slowly chewing up and crushing the dead bugs they'd left behind. Dipper recognized its head shape: it must be one of the worms from earlier, only alive and well. Dipper was alarmed by its appearance at first, but then he realized it was moving at about a foot per second; a snail's pace. It couldn't catch them even if it wanted to, and by the looks of it, it wasn't even interested in them. It just wanted to eat the dead stuff.

They left it to its feast, and continued on.

Now that they knew what to expect, the way was pretty smooth going. Occasionally they spotted a live bug or two in the crevices in the walls, and once the pests even tried to swarm again, but this time the humans were ready with the magnet gun, and fried them before they could become a threat. Another worm appeared out of the walls in short order to scavenge the dead 'meat'.

By now, Dipper figured they'd put a significant distance between themselves and the lions above. They found a place where the logs above were looser, cleared some of them away using the magnet gun, and crawled their way up through the crack they'd made.

As soon as he emerged above, Dipper thankfully gulped a breath of fresh air. There wasn't a lot of air movement or oxygen down there, and everything smelled like smoke and oils. Granted, a lot of those same smells were prevalent up here, but at least a gentle breeze was blowing some cool, fresh air in from the outside forest.

It sure was nice to be back topside.

He took the moment to adjust his armor slightly, so that it wasn't rubbing quite as badly on the scratches and punctures the bugs had given him. Then he pulled out his map, his compass, and a granola bar again. "Okay." He said, as he chewed. "Compass is working now… Looks like the coordinates should be… That way."

Wendy pulled out some jerky, and took a mouthful. "Ladeys fuhsht." She mumbled past the meat.

Dipper shook his head with a smile, and took a step forward.

* * *

"So, like, I know drummers are supposed to be the dumb ones, but did he really have to act the part right in front of—"

"Ooh!" Mabel saw something up ahead, and brazenly interrupted whatever Robbie had been trying to say. "A robot squirrel!"

"Lame." Robbie corrected her.

She tried to catch it, but the squirrel fired its booster and launched off towards the top of a nearby tree before she could catch it. "ROBOT ROCKET SQUIRREL!" Mabel clarified. "You rock, robot rocket squirrel!"

"Almost as lame." Robbie crossed his arms, and adjusted the straps on his backpack. Mabel's little 'collection' was starting to get quite heavy. "So…" Robbie said. "Like, what's the big plan, or… Like… Whatever…?"

"Well…" Mabel said. "I don't know quite yet… But I think for now, we should get a sample of all the plants and animals and stuff, and load them into your van… You know, like Noah's ark! Your van can be Noah's ark! Then we can bring them somewhere else… I can plant a garden… Use iron filings for fertilizer… Everything will grow big and beautiful, and pretty soon the whole yard will be smelling like industrial lubricant!"

One of the smaller bugs Mabel had collected crawled out of Robbie's backpack and onto his face. "Like… That's stupid but okay…" Robbie groaned, as he carefully plucked it off with his thumb and forefinger. He was about to flick it into the bushes, then thought better of it, and returned it to the backpack. "But… Like… Where are we putting all the stuff today?"

They happened upon a creek: the same one from Dipper and Wendy's first visit. Mabel stopped to pluck a thermoelectric solar flower from the streambed, and tucked it into her hair. "Well… _I've got a place picked out…"_ She said. "Like, a secret storage sort of place. We can put these things there until I save up enough money to buy a… I don't know, like a moving van… To take them to California… Or… Maybe to NASA… Or… Harvard or something… Someplace where there's lots of smart people, where nobody knows where they're from, but where everybody will love and respect because they're amazing and beautiful."

"Maybe… Like… The US government would buy them." Robbie suggested. "You know, to turn them into weapons. Like, bulletproof hunting dogs… Or they could reprogram the big ones to give birth to tanks… Or, like, they just toss a bunch of robo-moss at terrorists or whatever and crap starts growing on their guns and cars and stuff… And then they can't… Like… Use any of their stuff, or whatever… And then we could bomb them and they couldn't fight back."

"What…? Don't talk like that!" Mabel squealed. "They aren't weapons!"

"Yeah, well, neither are rusty screwdrivers, _but guess what_?"

"Umm…" Mabel frowned. "I can't guess. What?"

"Ain't you heard of a shiv? It's what people in prison use rusty screwdrivers for when they're cranky or insane."

"Fixing rusty things…?" Mabel scratched her head.

"No, stabbing people!"

"WHAT? EWW! ROBBIE!" Mabel covered her ears.

"I don't make this stuff up!" Robbie said. "I just repeat it back in a snarky tone. The fact is, girl, that people are buttheads and jerks. If these robot whatevers aren't useful to them, they'll be afraid of them and destroy them. And if they are useful… They'll weaponize them. It's just the way it is. Fact is: dangerous things never have happy endings. Trust me."

"Hmm…" The spring left Mabel's step. "Well…" She said. "I guess we'll put them in storage for now… And then we'll think about it for a real long time. Will you think with me, Robbie?"

"Huh?"

"Do you promise to think really hard about what we should do?"

"Uh… Okay. Fine. Yeah. I'll think…" He adjusted the straps again, but had a hard time thinking about anything besides how heavy the pack was. "But, like, why do you care about any of this stuff at all?"

Mabel looked at him. "We just… We just do…"

* * *

McGucket finished a third coat of alien adhesive, gave the last bolt one final tug, and then the machine was finished.

He piled his tools and equipment back into a toolbox, and closed it with finality. Then he reached for a control panel on his belt, and boosted the power on his robo-pants, enough to tripple his lower-body strength. With this new power, he grabbed his latest creation, stood to his feet with a great effort, and managed to walk it over to a tripod.

He mounted it to the top, and turned it to face the opposite end of his lab, where he'd placed an old, rusted car. He then pulled out a roll of cable, plugged one end into the machine, and ran the other end off to his computer. On the computer, he booted up the test program.

He pressed a button. ' _INITIALIZING'_ The computer announced.

The machine began to make noises. Clicking and buzzing from the charging electromagnets. Whirring and hissing from the superheating hydrogen fuel. A little puttering from the compressor. The pressure and temperature gauges on the computer both began to steadily climb, and he waited a minute or two for them to fill all the way to red line. Finally, the machine emitted a loud beeping noise, and it was ready for ignition.

He pressed another button. ' _IGNITING_ ' Appeared on the screen.

The machine released a microscopic jet of the superheated hydrogen, and fired a tiny, focused laser into the stream. The sharp 'bang' of fusion ignition rang through the shop. A bright and miniscule spark, the heat of a star, began to glow in the machine's front tip. The machine's cooling system started up, to counteract the spark's heat.

A green light lit up on his computer: _NUCLEAR FUSION PILOT LIGHT IGNITED. WARNING: RELEASE BEAM WITHIN 45 SECONDS OR RISK OVERHEAT._

He checked all the readouts. Everything was looking good by his reckoning, so he picked up his computer, walked over to a bulletproof shield, and ducked down behind it. For comfort, he clutched his raccoon under one arm, a fire extinguisher under the other, and hugged them close. The raccoon hissed in confusion.

With his foot, McGucket reached over and pressed the last button.

 _'PLASMA BEAM ENGAGED.'_

More fuel was sent through the multi-million-degree pilot light, and the magnets directed the ionized gas out of the machine and toward the old car.

The entire lab lit up with the bright pink light, accompanied by a sound like thunder, and a brief, furious blast of warm air. It was all over in less than a second, leaving nothing more than some billowing dust, and a ringing in McGucket's ears. The raccoon squirmed fearfully in his arms, so he released it, and let it flee the room to safety. As for himself, he shook his head to clear the shock, and blinked down at the computer. ' _TEST SUCCESSFUL_ ' it said.

He timidly stepped from behind the shield, with his fire extinguisher at the ready.

Nothing seemed amiss. The machine was still working and intact, the lab's walls and floor were undamaged, and fortunately, nothing much had been lit on fire. As for the target, however…

McGucket's eyes strayed across the lab to the old car. Its entire passenger-side door was burned and blackened, and directly in the center was a hole. A 2-centimeter-wide hole that made it straight through the car, and over 10 centimeters into the wall behind it.

 _I did it._ McGucket thought. _After all these long years of thinking, dreaming, and imagining… I finally did it._

 _I got me a death ray._

He glanced over at the blueprints, scattered over one of his workbenches. They explained and measured every detail of the invention, and would probably be worth millions of dollars to any of his usual military contacts.

He took the prints and burned them.

Then he took the machine itself, unplugged it, and drained its fuel. Then he hoisted it off the tripod and into an unmarked crate, and nailed it securely shut. To make sure nobody would get curious, he wrote 'Scalp Hair Sample Collection VHS' on top. Then he pushed that crate back into the furthest corner of his workshop, covered it in a filthy tarp, and stacked some other junk on top of it.

This latest machine wasn't for selling.

And it wasn't for using.

It was just for having.

Just in case.

* * *

It was such a tangled, overgrown mess that they didn't notice it at first.

Dipper and Wendy stood at the alien coordinates, glancing at the map, glancing at the compass, glancing at the landmarks around them, and turning slowly in circles.

So… They were here!

So what's here?

Wendy unslung her belt, tossed it around a nearby tree, and used it to scale straight up the trunk. Dipper watched from the ground, wondering if he'd ever have the upper arm strength to master that trick.

When she reached the lowest branch, Wendy startled a robot monkey, which hissed at her and swung off to a higher branch. "Yeah, same to you." She grunted at the creature, and stepped onto the tree limb.

"Hey, see anything?" Dipper called up.

"Uh…" She looked all around, seeing nothing much at all. Perhaps whatever 'fortifications' that 'Betty and Barney' mentioned had aged and decayed away. Perhaps there was nothing here anymore…

But then Wendy looked down at her friend. And she saw that he was standing in the middle of a strange clearing; a wide, circular hump in the forest floor, wherein no trees were growing, but only small shrubbery and moss. The shape was about 25 meters wide (a little bigger than your everyday fighter jet). There was a steeper, rounder sort of hump in the center of the hump, and one end of the entire shape seemed to be lifted up slightly, as if it something beneath were sitting crooked. "Hey…" She called down. "If I had a nickel for every time I found out I was standing on a buried UFO…"

"Huh?" Dipper looked down. "Oh…! Well… Hey. How 'bout that."

"Yeah." Wendy shrugged. "I mean, I know 10 cents isn't a lot of money, but… It's just weird that it happened twice, right?"

* * *

Illustration for this chapter (replace spaces with periods):

www deviantart com/codylabs/art/Forest-of-Daggers-Chapter-13-754242409

This is one of my favorite pictures. It's cute, but also super dark and ominous and looming. Since that's the same vibe I'm going for with this story as whole, I'm calling it a win.


	14. Cabin in the Woods

The hot midday sun beat down on two teenagers, who were working hard with their wire cutters and improvised prybars to clear off the top of the buried flying saucer. They'd set aside most of their armor by this point, just so that the heat wouldn't kill them. They figured that since they were near the center of the clearing, nothing could sneak up on them very easily. And just in case, their weapons never left their sides.

Inch after inch of the small vehicle was revealed below them. Even past the barnacle-like moss and the dirt and the mud, they could see its hull remained smooth and seamless. Evidently, in all the thousands of years it had been sitting here, the drilling roots of the metal plants hadn't been able to breach it.

"Say…" Wendy stood up with an exhausted sound, and scratched her armpit. "You don't suppose this thing is still, like, working?"

"I don't know." Dipper set down the wire cutters, and put his hands on his hips. He looked down at the machine below his feet. "I doubt it."

"That'd be cool though."

"Yeah."

"Hmm." Wendy considered the ship. It was about 60 feet in diameter, a bit bigger than a fighter jet, maybe the size of 6 RVs all parked side-by-side. Small enough to fly around. Small enough to take off and land on runways, in parking lots, sports fields… You could actually use it to get around. Wendy got an idea. "Dibs." She said.

"Huh?" Dipper looked up at her.

"Dibs." She repeated. "I just dibsed it. Now nobody else can take it from us. Now it's ours. International maritime law."

"You can't dibs a spaceship."

"Just did."

"Maritime law doesn't apply to spaceships."

"Dibs. See? I'll do it again. Dibs. It's official now. Don't worry, I dibsed it for both of us. We can share it."

"Well… Huh?" He looked down at it. "What would we _do_ with it?"

"Well… What do you _want_ to do? We could abduct farmer Sprock's mutant cows and put them on his roof… We could take it to the Woodstick festival… We could take it to football games… Everybody would freak out and it'd be hilarious… _You_ can use it pick up chicks, _I_ can use it to terrorize Thompson or Poolcheck or Stanley or whoever…"

"Pick… Pick up chicks…?"

"Or we could take it to the drive-in movie theater… Or we could use it to take vacations to… Like, the beach or something. Or… Or to Alaska if the beach is boring… Ooh! Or we could fly it real low over Washington D.C. or North Korea, and see if we can outrun all the missiles they shoot at us…!"

"UH!"

"Yeah, the last one was a joke. Kinda. But… I don't know. If we could get this thing running again… Man, we'd be the kings of this place! Come on, man. You gotta admit, it'd be cool to have a spaceship just lying around."

Dipper blinked. _Wait a minute._ He thought. _That actually does sound fun._ "You know what? Sure!" He laughed nervously. "I… Yeah, sure! I guess…Yeah! That would be… Well, we would have to be careful and everything, but…"

"But yeah?"

"Yeah!"

"Yeah!" Wendy turned back to her tools, and began prying more plants up off the ship's hull. "Now if we could just get inside the stupid thing…"

"Yeah…" Dipper bent down toward his own shadow, and began to work again. He felt the sun burning the back of his neck, but all over his body he felt the progressing aches of weariness. In his scrawny arms, the tools were starting to seem dull and ineffective. He began to move slower.

Wendy noticed his exhaustion. "Hey, didn't Ford call you a while back?" She asked. "You should call him back and check in."

"Uh…" Dipper stood up hesitantly. "Well, we still have to do this…"

"Oh, leave _this_ to the lumberjack, bro." Wendy took the wire cutters out of his hands. "Go talk to Ford. Tell him we found a UFO fixer-upper… And also that we dibsed it. It's very important that we dibsed it."

"…All right." Dipper fished his phone out of his pocket. As it booted up, he walked over to the shade of a nearby tree, and wiped the sweat from his hair.

* * *

With all his might, Robbie gave the fully-loaded backpack one final heave into the back of his van. The rear suspension bounced just slightly. Now that the burden had been lifted from his shoulders, he sagged over with his hands on his knees, and took a deep, profanity-laden breath.

"Wow, funny words!" Mabel half-ignored him, and skipped over to the passenger-side door with her pig. "All right Waddles, you have to go in the back seat. No, don't worry, it isn't that long of a drive. You'll be fine!"

As Robbie climbed in the driver-side door, he thumbed over to 'maps' on his phone. But with cell service so patchy out here, it took a long time getting an image. And even when it did, it just showed them as a blip in the middle of the forest. The logging roads weren't on the maps. "Well darn." Robbie growled at the phone.

"Well… There's only one road…" Mabel shrugged toward their surroundings. "You don't need a map if there's only one road…"

"Yeah, well… Well… Yeah." Robbie started the van, and attempted to turn around in the narrow area.

Suddenly, something jarred into place in Mabel's own memory. "Oh darn-poopy-darn!" She slapped herself. "I forgot to turn on my phone…"

She'd killed it this morning because she heard that the robot predators could track electrical signals. Now, as the screen blinked to life, she was rapidly flooded with everything she'd missed: text message after text message pouring in from Ford, Stan, Grenda, Candy, and even one from Dipper, asking where she was, what she'd been doing all day, and with whom.

Oh dear… She probably should have made up something this morning before she stowed away. She felt a little bad about worrying them, so she should check in now… Who to call first? How about Dipper.

He picked up on the second ring. "Mabel?" His voice came through in a scratchy way, since they were both almost outside cell service. "I was just talking to Ford, and you've been gone all day! Why wasn't your phone on? Ford was worried! Stan was worried! Soos was worried! Heck, the goat was worried! Where are you?! Are you-?"

"Oh, I'm in Robbie's van!" She blurted with a hasty smile. (She hadn't had time to make up a convincing lie.)

There was silence over the line for a few seconds. Mabel glanced at the phone, wondering if Dipper had hung up, or if the limited cell service had finally given out. But Dipper hadn't been disconnected, only confused. "…What are you doing in Robbie's van?" He finally asked, and she could hear the bewilderment in his voice.

"Uh... Oops, uh…" She scratched her head, and realized that her story needed a little extra _something_. She racked her brain. "Well… Uh… We're on a date!"

Dipper yelped. "WHAT?!"

Robbie stomped on the van's brakes, and brought them to a sudden halt. Then he spun to fix her with a death glare. "WHAT?!"

Wendy scoffed from Dipper's end. "What…?"

Miles away, Tambry's head jerked up from her phone for no conscious reason. "WHAT?!"

Robbie stared at Mabel incredulously for a few seconds. She stared at him for a few seconds. Then she held up the phone in one hand, a 5-dollar bill in the other, and whispered. "Make it convincing!"

Robbie growled and snatched the cell and money from her hands. "Yeah!" He said into the microphone. "Yeah that's right, I'm dating your sister, punk! We've been making out for an hour now!"

"Eww! No!" Mabel covered her ears.

"Making out?!" Dipper asked.

"…An hour…?" Wendy said.

"I'm, like, totally wigging out right now for some reason…" Tambry tweeted. "I can't even."

"Yeah, that's right!" Robbie continued. "Just kissing! Kissing as much as we feel like, because it's romance or true love or, like, whatever! How you like that, bub?!"

"Robbie you stay away from my sister!" Dipper snapped.

"Yeah, well it was her idea!" Robbie snapped back.

"WHAT?!" Dipper repeated. "Mabel! Why would you do this?!"

"Well… Uh… He was the hunkiest guy!" She smiled.

"Mabel, he's 17! You're 13!"

"Yeah?! WELL! That's kind of a weird thing for YOU to say given certain recent events and certain people who may very well be standing very close to you and hearing the words I'm saying right noooooow!"

"Leave me out of this." The sound of Wendy's voice walking away.

"GAH! Wendy!" Dipper gasped. "Mabel you can't just say…! Look…! Yeah…! I…! Look…! Mabel look, you can't date him! He's a minor antagonist! He's like… My nemesis! He's a jerk!"

"You dated Pacifica and _she's_ kind of _my_ nemesis jerk! But did _I_ throw a hissy fit?"

"I thought you and her were cool now!"

"We are! I thought you and Robbie were cool now!"

"Mabel!"

"Dipper!"

"Mabel!"

"Dipper!"

"Stop yelling my name!"

"You stop yelling my name!"

"Why are you doing this?!" He demanded.

"Because it's funny and I'm an impulsive person and opposites attract and Robbie is an edgy jerk and I'm an adorable glitter angel so we're attracted and plus he was also looking kind of glum this morning so I wanted to cheer him up and also because we both wanted to spite you just a little or maybe more than just a little so THERE!"

Dipper tried to follow her logic, but he wasn't used to using that side of his brain so hard. Finally he sighed. "Mabel." He said. "I need to talk with Robbie for a minute, and it might get a little rude. Give him the phone."

"Oh… Kay…"

Robbie took it while Mabel covered her ears.

"Step away from the van." Dipper told him. "Some privacy."

Robbie got out, and took a few steps down the road. "What?" He growled at the younger man, once he was outside Mabel's hearing range.

Dipper was silent for a few seconds, while he gathered his thoughts and calmed himself. Then he sighed. "Robbie." He said, as calmly as he could. "What's actually going on?"

"I'm going steady with your sister. Just like we told you, you nosy snot."

"…No you're not."

"Oh… Oh yeah? How do you figure that then, genius?"

"Well." Dipper said. "First of all, it takes more than hunkiness to attract her."

"No it doesn't."

"…Okay. Fine. You're right. It doesn't. But… But she did set you up with Tambry last Summer, and she would never think of undoing her own twisted creation. And secondly: I'm thinking of how I left Mabel at home today when we went on our expedition… Same as how we did with you…"

"Oh _really_?" Robbie frowned, feigning ignorance. "Oh _yeah_ … That's _right_ … You _did_ , didn't you?"

"And so I finally put two and two together." Dipper said.

Robbie glared into the distance.

Dipper's voice dropped to a low, menacing tone. " _You went to the metal forest today._ " He hissed. " _When you did, was Mabel wearing armor?_ "

Robbie glanced back at the girl's cotton sweater. "No…" He shrugged.

" _AND_." Dipper said. " _Were you armed with a deadly weapon?_ "

"No… What's it to you?"

"Listen to me very closely." Dipper growled. "Mabel is my sister. _She means more than the world to me, and more than she ever will to you_. Do you understand that?"

Robbie had never had a sister, but he began to get the idea.

"Now." Dipper said. "You're obviously not romantically involved at all, but the thing is: I wouldn't really care, even if you were. You can date, you can hang out, you can even kiss, and I wouldn't throw a fit. But. BUT. **BUT**. Robbie. If I _ever_ again hear that you've accompanied _my_ sister into danger, and haven't _protected_ her… I will find you. And I will beat you up."

Robbie took this in. He knew the kid on the other end of the phone line, and he knew how small and wimpy he was. But right now, he heard the tone behind the child's voice, and strangely, he believed him.

He nodded.

There was silence for a moment.

"We didn't do anything dangerous." Robbie finally said. "We didn't go very far in, and didn't see anything cool even. Your sister… Took pictures… And… Played with all the robots she could find. That's it."

"That's it?"

Robbie glanced at the backpack full of stolen live samples. "That's it." He lied.

They were silent for a moment.

"Okay." Dipper said.

Robbie sighed. "Look." He said. "I gotta be honest with you kid, I can be a real jerk sometimes."

"Yeah." Dipper agreed. "You can."

"You need to suck it up and deal with it." Robbie told him. "This is the real world, not some kindergarten fairy tale where you deserve to be treated like a dainty little gentleman."

"Yeah…" Dipper sighed. "…You know, I can be a real butt sometimes too."

"Yep." Robbie agreed. "I hate your guts and I want to pound a nail through your skull."

"Yeah…" Dipper scoffed. "Grow a set and come at me then. And in the meantime? Shut up."

"Yeah." Robbie sighed.

They hated each other in silence for just a moment more.

"So…" Robbie said. "Are you and Wendy, like…?"

"Like what?"

"Dating, or whatever?"

"HUH?! No!"

Robbie nodded. "Oh."

Dipper considered this. "…Earlier." He said. "When I brought up the hypnotizing thing, you said ' _the winners write the history books_ '… Is that what you meant? You thought I 'won' Wendy?"

"Well yeah…" Robbie said. "Didn't you? I mean, kinda?"

"That's not the way it works… At all. She yelled at me that night too, and… Told me I was too young, and… Yeah. We're friends now."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

"Friends?"

"Friends."

"Like… You sleeping with her?"

"Uh… Yeah, we slept in the hospital the other night. What does sleeping have to do with anything?"

"I mean-"

"OH! AGH!" Dipper realized. "DUDE! We're not even married!"

The boy immediately hung up.

Robbie frowned down at the phone, then slouched back over to the van.

"Sooooooooo…" Mabel smiled expectantly, and took her hands away from her ears. "Is everything non-rude again?"

"Yeah." Robbie growled.

"Did you both apologize and be cool? I mean, I want you to be happy and him to be happy and it would be too bad if he had a brother-in-law he couldn't stand…?"

Robbie slammed the door a little too hard, and tossed Mabel her phone back. "We had a discussion." Robbie said. "A heart-to-heart, the way guys do it. We're cool now." He stuck the transmission into gear, and started the engine again. "Now listen, kid. I _have_ a girlfriend, _and_ a concert tonight. So could you STOP with the phony romance thing and tell me where we're going already?!"

Mabel blinked her eyelashes slowly and adorably. "Phony…? Was it really so phony, my love?"

"Where. Are. We. Going."

"Alright alright…!" She giggled, and pulled out a map. "We're going… Here! The woods by the Mystery Shack. There's some… Equipment we need."

"What kind of equipment?"

"Like, this sort of a… Cave. And it has tubes of… Cold? Yeah, tubes of cold. Big freezy-frozen tubes."

Robbie searched his mind for some kind of translation. "You mean, like… Stasis tanks? Like a sci-fi game?" He clarified.

"Yeah, that's it!" Mabel smiled. "Stasis tanks…"

* * *

"Hey Dipper!"

"What?" He put the phone away and stood up, eager to talk about literally anything else.

"I think I found the way in…" Wendy gestured to a small patch she'd cleared on the side of the ship's hull. There appeared to be a circular seam in the glass surface, as if the section could slide open like a hatch. "But there's something reeeeeeally weird going on here." Wendy said. "Look at this…" She pointed to a certain part of the seam. There was a blackened burn mark, surrounding a place where the glass had been chipped. "It looks like somebody came through here and unlocked it for us…"

Dipper scratched his head, as he remembered seeing a similar blast mark on the male lion.

"You mean… There's some kind of… Third party?" Dipper asked. "Something with laser beams?"

"Could be…" Wendy shrugged. "But some _thing_? Or some _one_?"

"Does… Does anybody else know that this forest is here?"

"Do they?" Wendy asked. "My dad knows, and my oldest brother, but that's all… Who have you told?"

"…I don't know…" Dipper ran through a mental list. "There's… Mabel… Robbie… The Stans… And McGucket. I guess Soos and Melody too, but they're… Oh, and I guess Bill knew 'lots of things' too, but we killed him…"

"Right… But does the government know about it? Or anybody who would use, like… Bombs? Or burning-hot death rays? Or…?"

"I don't know…"

They glanced uncertainly about the surrounding trees. Of course they saw nothing, but that did little to calm their paranoia.

"Well…" Dipper looked back down at the vehicle. "Whoever broke this seal… Do you think they could still be inside?"

"No, they never opened it…" Wendy said. "See, in order to get a grip on this, I had to spend, like, half an hour cutting away vines and stuff. Plus there's still plants growing across the seam, and undisturbed dirt. So all they did was get it started. They didn't go in."

"As if all they were doing is opening the way for us…"

"Almost like that, yeah…"

"…Think we should we go in?" Dipper asked uncertainly.

"I don't know…" Wendy shook her head. "Should we?"

"Should we?"

"SHOULD WE?"

"Will we?"

"WILL WE?"

Dipper shrugged.

Wendy shrugged.

"Let's go."

"Why not?"

They got as good a grip as they could on the glass panel, and strained for all they were worth. Eventually something below them creaked, the surface shifted, and the left side of the seam spread apart by about half an inch.

A fine cloud of dust puffed up around the broken seal, and a few loosed clods of dirt tumbled down the dark crack, to thud and shatter on the floor below.

The teens put their fingers into the crack now, and Wendy braced against the other side with her boot, and they pushed and they pulled some more. The panel creaked and squeaked and eventually opened up to about 20 inches wide. Wide enough to fit through.

They paused to replace the rest of their armor, weapons, and protection. Wendy thumbed on her headlamp, and Dipper pulled out a flashlight.

They shined their beams down into the opening, and saw nothing but a small, round room.

Seemed harmless enough.

Wendy tied one of the metal vines around the trunk of a nearby tree, and then dropped the other end down the hole, so they could climb back up again once they were down there.

Dipper gripped the vine in his gloves, and lowered himself into the darkness, with Wendy right behind.

Their boots contacted the floor with a dull ringing noise, and raised 4 tiny clouds of fine dust.

The room was empty except for a few pipes and vents, and a cluster of confusing controls on one wall. Dipper opened the translation app on Ford's tablet, and began to decipher the controls' markings. "Outer door… Inner door…" He read. "Pressurize, depressurize… Emergency lockdown… Okay, it looks like we're in the _airlock_ right now… Maybe this will work?" He flipped a switch.

The airlock's outer door hissed back shut above them, severing the vine and sealing them below.

Wendy scoffed. "If I had a nickel for every time I was locked in a tiny, dark airlock with you…" She mused. "I would have 2 nickels."

"SORRY! Sorry, uh…" Dipper flipped the switch that said 'inner door'.

The room suddenly sprang to life around them. The space reverberated with a shrill beep, and dim, turquoise lights flickered to life around the walls. An incomprehensible alien voice announced. "Stand clear of opening door!" In a language that was most certainly NOT English. And the wall next to the controls hissed and creaked open, and then everything immediately fell deathly silent.

In the larger room beyond, more turquoise lights came on. Only about a third of the lights were still working, and of these, about half were flickering on and off sporadically, like some cheap movie effect that the director threw in to make a place seem shabby, aged, and eerie… Well, it worked.

Dipper and Wendy stepped into this room slowly.

At first, it looked like the inside of a spaceship. There were a few flight seats beneath the dome in the ship's center, surrounded by levers and controls. The room itself was circular like the ship, and there were computers, pipes, and cargo containers built into the walls.

But…

It wasn't a ship.

There was a homemade bed tucked into one corner, its sheets tattered and pale. Something like a baby cradle sat next to it, and the two were separated by a curtain. On the other side of the room, pots and pans were stacked atop some manner of makeshift stove. Water pipes had been disconnected from the wall, and hooked directly into a shallow washbasin, which sat near the airlock. Wooden cabinets and chests were erected here and there, each one stacked with small items. Items like tools, utensils, bowls… Baskets… Photographs…

This wasn't a ship.

Once, in some far departed time… This had been somebody's home.

Wendy walked hesitantly over to one of the chests. It was made of alien metal wood instead of normal wood, but it wasn't too heavy to pry open. Inside it, she found clothes. This one seemed like heavy pants, but too wide. That one looked like a light shirt, though too tall across the back. And these two must be socks… Right?

Dipper approached the bed. The bedframe was wood, but not earthly wood. The sheets were cloth, but not earthly cloth. The center of the mattress was stained with blood, but not earthly blood: oil and burn marks more like…

Wendy inspected a basket lying on a shelf. It was handwoven. Handwoven out of steel cables…

Dipper turned to the cabinet next to the bed, and picked up one of the small, framed pictures. It was blurry with dirt and grime, and almost entirely faded, but he was able to make out a faint silhouette: the shape of two people, standing together holding hands. One tall and wide, one short and wider… They had glowing red eyes…

He turned the photo over, and recognized the symbols.

 _ƉN::ᶌ_ _and Ɖg }Nᶌ._

 _Betty and Barney._

"Hey." Dipper said.

"Huh?" Wendy turned toward him. "What?"

"Betty and Barney." Dipper said. "They were… It looks like they were alien robots… I guess… I guess they lived here…?"

"Oh…" Wendy glanced at the bed, with its 'blood' stain. "So… What happened to them then?"

Without warning, the airlock door suddenly slammed shut, sealing them in the ship.

As one, they spun to face the door. Wendy pulled out her axe, and Dipper the magnet gun. They didn't see anybody nearby who could have worked the controls, but that didn't mean there was nobody there…

"Hey!" Dipper snapped. "Who's that?!"

"Yeah, come on out!" Wendy tried to help. "We just want to axe you a few questions…!"

"Ask." Dipper corrected her.

"That's what I said."

"What you _meant_ , maybe."

"I meant what I said."

"You said 'axe'."

"…I did?"

Suddenly, all the ship's interior lights began to flicker and flash. Even the ones that had seemed fine before. Even Dipper and Wendy's personal lights began to waver. Then, just to accompany the flashing, their walkie-talkies somehow turned themselves on, and began making scratchy, warbling noises. The sudden hubbub startled them both, and they found themselves back to back, with their weapons pointed in opposite directions.

"What's going on?" Wendy asked.

"I don't know!" Dipper said. Then he noticed something else: a few of the smaller items around the ship: the bowls, baskets, pictures and things on the cabinets, books and tools as well; all suddenly began to levitate. Then they began to accelerate, swirling around the room about chest level. "Maybe the ship's coming back online?" Dipper guessed, as he ducked to the floor. "The gravity drive must have been engaged! Everything's becoming weightless…!"

"Wait… No, no it's not the ship!" Wendy ducked down low, to avoid a metal basket which would have hit her head. " _I've seen this once before…_ "

"You what? Where?" Dipper frowned. "Oh… Wait…" He recalled a certain night spent in a convenience store… And a certain other night spent in a mansion. He looked down at Betty and Barney's photograph, still clutched in his hands. The two silhouettes in the picture had vanished. "Oh." He said. "Yeah… I've actually seen this _twice_ before…"

They backed into a corner, and Dipper dumped out his backpack on the floor behind him. "Ghost stuff, ghost stuff…!" He muttered, and poked through the pile. He'd packed a magnet gun, a tablet, a radio tracker, a Geiger Counter, even a wrench set and a poster that said 'this sentence is false'… "Dang it!" He hissed. "I packed all my sci-fi stuff today! Didn't expect to run into magic…"

"So no ghost stuff at all?" Wendy frowned.

"No, no P.K.E. meter, no holy water, no silver mirrors…"

"Dang it!"

"Well. Guess we're ghost-harassing the old-fashioned way then." Dipper stood up suddenly, and removed his helmet. "Attention alien robot ghosts!" He bravely announced. (This was a string of words he never would have expected to say.) "We are human; native to this planet Earth!"

Wendy stood up too, and removed her own helmet. "We mean you and your kind no harm, and our intentions are honest!"

A small jar lifted off the floor, and accelerated right for Dipper's head. He ducked just in time to save his skull. The jar shattered on the wall, and the broken fragments rained down around them.

One of the shards happened to scratch Wendy's cheek. A single drop of blood fell from the wound, and dropped to the ground. Red, human blood.

As soon as the liquid touched the floor, all the lights in the ship suddenly turned off, all the levitating small items dropped suddenly and clattered to a stop on the floor, and their walkies fell silent.

"Ow." Wendy said.

"What is it you want?!" Dipper asked.

Then, at the other end of the room, a single computer screen winked to life; its soft blue glow the only light in the ship.

They hesitated for a moment, weighing their options. But, since there didn't seem to be anything smarter to do, their curiosity won out and they cautiously crossed the room. Dipper picked up Ford's tablet and the interface cord, and searched around the screen for a place to plug it in. Wendy glanced about the rest of the room, her eyes straying across the bed, kitchen, tub… All these relics of former life, now empty. Her eyes strayed over the walls too. The ship was haunted, and the invisible souls of the dead fixed her with their gaze. The souls of Betty and Barney?

Who were they?

Dipper found the terminal's port, and plugged the tablet in. Its circuits thought for a brief moment, then began to spit out a long stream of text. Wendy bent down over his shoulder, and together they read…

* * *

-date: 13/20/2094-46'\

Hello.

My name is Ɖg }Nᶌ.

As one of the survivors of the crash of colonial vessel 46.18'\, I am starting this journal to document our experiences on this planet. In the event that we are rescued, or survive long enough to reestablish contact, this log will serve as a record on our experiences. If you recover this and we're not here to give it to you… Then I guess we've failed.

And this is our story.

* * *

Illustration for this chapter (replace spaces with periods):

No link yet plz wayt


	15. A Tale of Two Bots

_Author's note:_

Okay, hey! Hi! I've got a pretty special little surprise for all you fans today. Not only did I just come out with 2 CHAPTERS ON THE SAME DAY WHAAAAAT, but I also just finished my first illustration for the story! It's at the following deviantart location: (Just replace the spaces with periods.)

codylabs deviantart com/art/The-Forest-of-Daggers-698878133

That picture is from the end of Chapter 12, and it should give you a feel for the titular environment, as well as shows you exactly what the big, bad predator species looks like in the mind of the author. The two dorks in football pads are Dipper and Wendy, naturally.

As for the 2-chapters-in-one-day thing, there is an explanation: the first one ended up being super short, and then this second one is, like, barely even Gravity Falls anymore. All just a bunch of long-dead alien robot OCs. So I figured I would pop both chapters out at once, and give you an extra special little day.

* * *

 _Another Author's note:_

Finally, a little warning: I know the little 'rating' box up there says 'K+', meaning it's good for basically anybody. But for this chapter alone, I'm gonna have to tentatively update it to 'T' for minor adult themes. If you're under 13, consider skipping this chapter, and maybe messaging me for a summary.

However! If you are a _robot_ , I'm gonna have to update it to 'M'. So if you're a robot under 13, don't you even _think_ about reading it; it's _way_ too dark for you! For now, little buddy, all you need to know is that it all starts in the _primary solid-state data core_. He's a little guy, but he's got _big plans_ …

* * *

-date: 13/20/2094-46'\

Hello.

My name is Ɖg}Nᶌ.

As one of the survivors of the crash of colonial vessel 46.18'\, I am starting this journal to document our experiences on this planet. In the event that we are rescued, or survive long enough to reestablish contact, this log will serve as a record on our experiences. If you recover this and we're not here to give it to you… Then I guess we've failed.

And this is our story.

Well.

As I said, the colonial vessel has crashed. Near as I can tell, we were traveling near-horizontally at an altitude of several kilometers, when some type of interference or malfunction disabled the vehicles artificial-gravity engines. We hit the ground before control could be regained. The impact was directly into solid rock, at a velocity in excess of 400 meters per second. The ship carved a large chunk out of a mountainside, and half-buried itself in its own artificial valley. The impact was sufficient to free the majority of the nuclear fuel from containment, disable the primary propulsion system, and kill the entire pilot and command crew. To the best of my knowledge, I, and 52 other passengers, are the last survivors of the collision.

We have escaped the confines of the ship, and have used salvaged cloth and materials to erect a small camp on the hill above it.

More of us are injured than not. Many terminally so. Since the vessel's power supply has largely gone into meltdown, all remaining power has been automatically diverted toward containing the damage. Periphery systems, including the auto-medics, have gone offline. I'm no surgeon, but the others are even less so.

They expect me to repair the wounded.

I'll see what I can do.

* * *

-date: 13/21/2094-46'\

My medical tools were designed for my species specifically. They are poorly suited for the others, who are primarily carbon-based. Their bodies are squishy, ever-shifting, mostly liquid. I don't know how to handle it. Many of the terminally injured have died following my surgery. I was able to fix a few, but… But the others are angry with me. They think I could have done more for the dying. Survivor count now 41. The names of the living are included here for posterity:

Ɖg}Nᶌ

Klk76y

Zlfo]n

ƉN::ᶌ

~y

iA**5{y

-N^^

C0gsJRY

V;M9OZ

4EtR%ibP

WA~/\hi(B

~u81FF:'

S~5VH/'QepKl

3v49EVv

iZxFpLo

wX~~E2VY

IeRhgnC5j8Ca

xE][fo

I6gyvPh

7ncZ9Itx

bC*$l9DSEmm

J86O/\oBZg

v89Z;vHFiv

4g0ORH

Xp;DWstNBYi

0aF2I(zLxyn7k

SGff\mBOfic8

0Xzn

TSpqQfjFn

famESw

W8{A1EdwQ

j0wX

KlcfG;B0lw0

4hArMXj4

qKhcn0U

SXz4;

PxNeLwi

w4A;mVIV5

tVkqZme

oy.}szN;XJCc

og;hgnC5j8Ca…

I don't really want to talk about it anymore.

* * *

-date: 13/22/2094-46'\

Only one other survivor belongs to my same species. We were bound for the same colony, her and I, but now everybody we knew is gone. I'm glad I have somebody to speak to though, especially after the failed surgeries. Her name is ƉN::ᶌ, and she is kind to me. Seeing as how it looks like we're here for the long haul, I wonder if perhaps we could begin the colony here, with only us two.

No, I can't think that. It's indecent.

She's looking at me.

I am pretending to type something in.

* * *

-date: 13/28/2094-46'\

Klk76y has gotten one of the computers online, and has retrieved data from the crash. Apparently, we are on body 3.0 of this system, on one of the northern continents. It's hellish here. There's air, it's hot, the gravity is high, the surface is soaked in unhealthy chemicals like water, and everything is cluttered with native and hostile carbon-based life. Even its moon, 3.1, would have been better than this. We can survive, but it isn't well-suited. Natural terraforming processes won't work.

I just wish we would have crashed on 4.0. It would have been nearly perfect for our needs.

The only metal ƉN::ᶌ and I have to eat is that from the ship's hull. Livestock and crops could easily survive on this diet, but they would rip the whole craft apart in the process. Since we'd rather leave it salvageable (by the slim hope that we could repair it someday), we'll keep the farming systems in stasis for now.

I hope our colonial supplies are still intact. They should be tougher than the other cargo, but I don't know.

Titanium-steel alloy plating is sure getting bland though. Hard to chew. Hard in general.

I want some fruit.

* * *

-date: 13/22/2094-46'\

Everything has calmed down now, as much as it can. The fires from the crash have died out. We've buried as many of the dead as we can find. The other survivors are settling into the camp, and they've gathered some meager supplies, enough to last the winter. ƉN::ᶌ and I can survive directly off the ship's power, so we should be fine indefinitely. Klk76y has also taken charge as a sort of leader, and everybody seems as content as they can be.

I suppose that now is a good a time as any to give my own personal story.

It all started long ago, and far away.

It was cold and hard and small, one of many solitary, airless moon of a bloated gas giant, bathed in the light of an old, red star. To look at it, you might mistake the world for a larger asteroid, or one of the many unnotable, dusty rocks that inhabit the empty voids of space.

But this rock wasn't any rock. This was a living place, filled with rugged natural beauty. Spreading seas of liquid sand, mountains of the dust of ancient timbers, and the great, towering forests of mighty trees. Fields abounding in fruit and grains, the woods crawling with wild animals, the void alive with the radio singing of the bugs and the birds, the sun shining brightly on the leaves. And a humble people toiling with bliss beneath the stars, picking and eating their food, building their houses and roads, constructing and raising their children. It was a place where families could be happy. A place of peace.

This was my beloved home.

But I never once enjoyed it.

Why didn't I? It was a paradise. I could have grown old and happy there. I could have been rich and prosperous. I could have had everything that people strive for… Everything but meaning.

Mind you, I wasn't alone. There were many of my peers who considered it an utterly boring, menial existence, where our young minds had nowhere to explore, where knowledge and learning was scarce, and where our toil and daily labor did not satisfy our hunger for adventure. We were children then, restlessly longing for something more. I wish now I hadn't been among them… But I was.

Two cycles ago, when I had just finished being a boy, but didn't yet know what 'man' was, another race came to our world. They arrived in an enormous ship from some other dimension, on a mission (so they said) to explore and archive the wonders of the universe, to seek out new and deviant life, to see, hear, touch and explore that which nobody had ever experienced before, and to set up colonies among the far reaches of space. They visited us for this same reason, collecting samples from our planet, examining and studying us. (The reason for their fascination, I found out later, was our metallic bodies and mechanical makeup. Apparently, it's something of a novelty to these squishy sacks of slime.)

Regardless, I'm sure you can understand my thoughts when they revealed this mission of theirs. How glamorous! How grand! How adventurous! How meaningful! I dreamed to accompany them, to whatever fate lay beyond the horizons of my own mind. Once, I even had the pleasure of speaking to Captain &:V-GN[], commander of the alien vessel.

"I wish I could accompany you!" I'd told him. "I wish I could count myself among the colonists on your ship."

"It's certainly a hard life." He'd tempted me, with a twinkle in his eye. "Long years aboard a closed metal ship, and at the end of your journey, an unknown fate… It could be dangerous, it could be strange, it could require things from you that you don't know you had. Even WE don't know what we'll find in that great unknown…" (He was telling me precisely the type of tale I wanted to hear. Naturally I fell for it.)

"I would be willing!" I told him. "And I have friends as well! We would all love to leave our world, and travel with you to the ends of the universe! We would follow you!"

He stroked his chin, and nodded. "We have set down several colonies already…" He said, as if it were my idea the entire time. "Perhaps there would be room among the organic cargo sectors for your… Particular breed of crops and livestock…"

"I hope so!" I said, and I meant it.

The next day, he announced to our people that they would be taking on passengers and cargo, whatever passengers could fit in sector 22, and whatever farming supplies we could fit in stasis in sector 43. They would allow our people to found a colony on a world of our choosing, or even, if we wished, they would allow us to return with them to their home dimension.

It goes without saying that I, along with many of my friends, signed up eagerly.

My father silently watched me as I entered the shuttle, and he had a sorrowful look on his face which I will never remember, because I never once looked back.

And so did I venture forth, to seek my fortune among the stars.

It was a lie.

No sooner had we left the system, but the crew confined us to quarters, and began to treat us harshly. They told us they were cracking down on troublemakers, and that this was just a necessary caution. But among themselves, they were communicating using their suits' radios. My people could hear such signals plainly, and I learned to understand them.

I learned that our people were not to be set down on a colony of our choosing. Rather, we were all to be brought back to the aliens' dimension, to be treated as scientific samples, or even used for their own purposes.

They began to experiment on us.

It was a nightmare.

I would hear the communications as they would take our people, one at a time, from the passenger areas. _Always young females_. Whenever the rest of us moved to intervene, the crew would summon security drones to threaten us, then say it was for our own protection.

One day we heard their purpose… Lord have mercy, I feel dirty even describing it.

The females of our species naturally have reproductive systems in their abdomen areas. Normally, these organs serve only to manufacture and assemble the bodies of children. The organs are perfectly designed for the task, and they are able to do so reliably and repeatedly. Since the living bodies of children are inherently complex, the organs must be highly versatile.

The aliens saw this.

So the science team, under the direction of Captain &:V-GN[], were downloading foreign code into the women's organs, to try and make them manufacture artificial systems: Tools. Weapons. Drones. Storage crates. Spare parts. They were trying to turn our people into living factories. This was just a proof of concept, before they returned to their home dimension and refined the idea into an industrial process.

The experiments were invasive and painful, and the women were not willing.

I began to discuss these matters in hushed tones with the other colonists, of both my own species and others. We all agreed that something needed to be done.

So one night, all at once, we staged a mutiny. We sawed through the doors of our rooms, gathered improvised tools and weapons, rendezvoused with the organic passengers, and aimed ourselves for the bridge.

It didn't work.

They put us under guard from that point on, reinforced the doors, equipped us with stun collars, and pumped all the air out of our rooms to keep us from audio communication with the other passengers. They also encrypted their radio signals, so we could no longer listen in to them.

A cycle passed quietly and despairingly. An older friend of mine likened it to prison.

But then, days ago, it happened.

For reasons none of us know, Colonial Vessel 46.18'\ crashed.

Now here we are. The greatest adventure of my life, more excitement and strange new weirdness than I ever could have hoped or dreamed: aliens, lies, betrayal, mutiny, heroism, bravery, fierce enemies on all sides and a grave mission to follow… This is the adventure of a lifetime.

And I would trade it all away in an instant. What I wouldn't give to be back home. My quiet, peaceful, meaningless home…

For there is no meaning to be found out here either. We've crossed galaxies by now, gone where none have gone, and we are no closer to something higher than when we started out. There is no height to be climbed to reach enlightenment. There is no lesson or sense or justice to bring to our predicament. Life is cruel and short, and our lives are either empty or painful. Some, like mine, are both.

So that is how I, Ɖg }Nᶌ, got to where I am now.

ƉN::ᶌ says I'm being pessimistic. She says there is a meaning, and that God has a purpose and plan for our lives, even through our pain and misfortune, even though we do not see it.

I hope she's right.

I prayed for the first time today.

* * *

-date: 13/30/2094-46'\

Why are we on this planet at all? Why did the command crew stop here? Did they have to land to make repairs? Did we have to restock supplies? Was there another mutiny we didn't hear about?

I, for one, suspected the command crew was goaded into it by the science team. They noticed something interesting on the flyby, and convinced the higher-ups of the need to stop and release probes.

It wouldn't be the first time it's happened. We've had several unscheduled stops over the course of this trip. Always the science team wanting to collect samples or specimens, or examine some readings. Always something new and interesting to look at.

But why here? What makes this valley so special? What drew their curiosity? And what about this valley caused our crash? We may never know; all the sensors are down, many of the computer logs were damaged, and many of the remaining mission files are simply classified to us passengers.

I suppose I'm just complaining. I shouldn't complain. What's done is done, and now all we can do is pick up the pieces and make the most of what we have.

Perhaps it's just God's will.

* * *

-date: 15/2/2094-46'\

We sent 5 men deeper into the wreck to see what they could salvage. It's been 6 days now, and they haven't come back out. I wonder what has happened. The automated security system is coded for all the colonists' identities, so even if it reactivated somehow, none of them should have anything to fear… I wonder if perhaps some of the more dangerous scientific specimens have been released from containment.

The rest of the survivors are wanting me and ƉN::ᶌ to venture in after them, since our metal bodies make us tougher than the others.

She is afraid, so I will go in alone. I will be their hero. I will be her hero.

* * *

-date: 15/3/2094-46'\

I'm back. I found nothing. No signs of a struggle, no weapon damage.

But no bodies either.

Perhaps they got lost down there. I can see why they would; the crash mutilated the vessel into a veritable labyrinth of twisted metal. We can only wait, and hope that that they survive, and hope still that they can find their way back out.

While I was down there, I did stumble across the scientific sample area. It was torn wide open. Everything in the stasis chambers are dead.

But a few of the chambers are open.

And all the chambers that are open are empty.

Specimens must have escaped. Could one have killed and eaten the men we sent inside? I don't know what manner of subjects they'd stored in the now-empty chambers, but judging by the looks of some of the others… Let's just say I'm glad most of them are dead. Out of all the nasty things they've collected on their journey, I think that living robots are the most harmless of the bunch.

I'm back on the surface now, and gave my report to the other survivors. It frightened them. They don't want to explore the wreck any deeper than necessary. I understand that.

ƉN::ᶌ is beating herself up for letting me go alone. She swears that whatever happens next, she will be there for me. I'm glad for the promise.

As it stands, Survivor count now 36.

* * *

-date: 15/16/2094-46'\

Survivor count now 28.

We don't know what's happening. People go missing. Randomly. Unforeseeably. Without trace. As if they decided to just walk away in those moments when nobody's watching.

After the last incident, Zlfo]n instructed us to watch closely for anyone behaving strangely. He encouraged us to keep up conversation frequently. I don't know what he suspects, (does he think we're going mad one by one? Does he know something we don't?) but I hope he's on to something.

I modified a few power tools into melee weapons, so that ƉN::ᶌ and I can defend ourselves if the need arises. When I offered her a cutting drill, she said she would prefer to use her teeth, since they're sharper and easier to carry around anyway.

It's nice to have somebody to laugh with, even in times like this.

But seriously though, she's literally going to use her teeth. This girl is crazy!

I kind of… Never mind.

* * *

-date: 15/18/2094-46'\

Somebody struck up conversation today with Klk76y. He mumbled his way through a brief exchange, but in the process, he gave something away: he didn't possess even the most basic knowledge of Klk76y's life or job. It quickly became apparent that he wasn't Klk76y at all, but rather something else, looking exactly like him, bluffing his way through a conversation. Zlfo]n, ƉN::ᶌ, and myself attempted to confront him, but he attacked with an incredible physical strength, and escaped into the forest. Zlfo]n suffered several broken bones during the fight, and will not last long. Meanwhile Klk76y, the only leader we had, is gone like the others.

Also, at some point, ƉN::ᶌ managed to clip the enemy with her teeth. This drew green blood, whereas the real Klk76y would have had yellow-white blood.

Something is out there.

Something that's changing.

It takes us one by one, probably eats us, and impersonates us to learn more before eating again.

Survivor count now 27. Soon to be 26, as there's not much I can do for Zlfo]n.

* * *

-date: 15/19/2094-46'\

Zlfo]n pulled me close today, and told me about the shapeshifter. He described everything he knew of its abilities, its methods, its mannerisms, and its intelligence. He told me where the science team found it, what it eats, where it lives, what it wants.

(Future reader, I have transcribed his analysis, and saved it as a separate file. This is my journal, after all, and not a tactics guide. Suffice to say that this mimic is quite a character herself, and I don't like it one bit being on the receiving end of her cunning.)

I asked Zlfo]n how he knew so much about the creature. He sighed and he told me:

Zlfo]n was on the science team.

So I took him outside the camp, and I left him to die. By now he will have perished from his injuries in the silent forest, without burial, without dignity, alone except for the memories of the women he violated. Alone, save for his conscience. I hope he has one, so that he suffered. And I hope the shifter finds him, and that she realizes we are not her enemies.

…Did I do wrong, to let Zlfo]n die like that?

I don't think I did.

Did he deserve better?

I don't think he did.

Did ƉN::ᶌ approve?

I think she did.

I never asked her if she'd been a part of the onboard experiments. I pray she didn't have to suffer it, because I don't know what I could do for her damage. I'm not that type of doctor. Heck, I'm not any type of doctor! What am I supposed to do for a damaged factory, huh? Look at it? I'm a male. Even that's not proper.

All I can do for her is to be her friend, and love and respect and care for her regardless of anything else. And I really do love her… I've been realizing that more and more.

* * *

-date: 15/27/2094-46'\

Survivor count now 23.

The other survivors can't stand it anymore. They need to get away from the wreck. Whatever the mimic wants, it is hostile. And it is near. And since we haven't the vaguest inkling of how to face it, we need to flee.

The others all agreed to pick up and head North, as far from the crash site as possible. They are carbon-based, and can therefore subsist on native food. They collected all the weapons and tools they could find, and started off. They should be safe from the enemy… Or at least see it coming… I think they'll be alright. I hope they'll be alright.

Either way, ƉN::ᶌ and I need to make other plans. We are not carbon based, and therefore need to grow our own crops if we are to survive. We'll need a farm. We picked out a pretty good spot for it to the South-East, but this planet doesn't have a lot of dense deposits near the surface, so our crops won't grow.

We'll need to improvise some type of soil.

The hull of the spacecraft, combined with the minerals in the native rock, should supply our farm with all the biological sustenance it needs. It would make excellent soil. But we don't want to stay in the craft's immediate vicinity. So we need to cut loose a massive section of the hull and bring it all of 20 kilometers to the farm.

How do we do that?

It was her idea to jury-rig the ship's last remaining artificial-gravity nacelle. Normally, these nacelles create a gravitational dipole large enough to put the entire ship into free-fall in any direction. One nacelle may not be able to do something so grand on its own, but it still possesses a large amount of power. ƉN::ᶌ thinks it should be a simple matter to shrink this dipole and concentrate it, if only we could get to the engine room. This would allow us to 'jackhammer' a section of the hull loose. A slightly larger dipole will then be able to carry the disconnected section 20 kilometers through the air, and set it down at the farm. I just hope the craft has enough power left to run this stunt.

To operate the nacelle, we need to get down to the engine room and do it manually. This means risking whatever tricks and tactics the mimic has in store, but we would prefer to risk it immediately, rather than stay above ground and wait for her… Rather take her on our terms: immediately and directly.

We're going inside tomorrow.

If we never come back out… Let it forever be known that ƉN::ᶌ and Ɖg }Nᶌ were here.

* * *

-date: 15/30/2094-46'\

It has been 3 days since my last entry, but we are now back. We successfully completed the maneuver.

But first, a word on what we found down there.

Let's just say that at this point, the ship would need half again its weight in glue. Its main propulsion system, (everything except the one intact nacelle), is completely offline. 7 of the 8 main reactors have gone into meltdown, and the computer automatically locked down the last one for safety. The vessel's long-range communication systems and tracking beacon were in its lower areas, and were therefore destroyed when it contacted the ground. There is no chance of signaling home, or anywhere.

However, there were a few intact things. The perpetual-motive emergency power generators were left online somehow, and should stay remain so indefinitely, barring mechanical breakdown. These were the only thing running the ship until we got down there.

Also, we found we weren't the only survivors. There were more, some even among the command crew, who had survived the crash but stayed underground. They were barricaded in the ship's mid levels, and just stayed down there.

But they aren't alive anymore.

Apparently, the mimic got to them too. Some of their survivors had taken to drawing graffiti on the walls since the computers were down. Most of it was just innocent nonsense, but then there was some stuff like "GweeV7w isn't what he seems!" and "That's not the real u*/~h!" and "Specimen has escaped is changing forms."

And everybody was dead.

Eaten.

The mimic is smart. Smart enough to kill them all without putting itself in danger. Smart enough to use fear like a weapon, and fill her enemies with it. Smart enough to stay in shadows.

Smart enough to learn to hack computers.

The mimic has reactivated the security system, and made several changes to their programming. Firstly she wiped the drones' entries for recognized individuals, so that they now recognize everyone, man, woman, child and animal, as unidentified intruders. Secondly, she reprogrammed their tactical assessment system. They now evaluate threats based on chemical signs of aggression and fear. If any carbon-based lifeform shows fear in a drone's vicinity, it is programmed to destroy them.

Since the shifter was terrorizing everyone else while remaining calm herself, it worked perfectly: the drones would leave her alone and go straight for any of the other cowering survivors.

As for us metallic life forms, well… The mimic is smart, as I said. She knew we didn't have a sense of smell, so she rigged a booby trap that sprayed us with hormones. We didn't even notice, until every drone in the ship started to attack.

That was a dicey couple hours. Those drones are learning and self-adapting, and can sprout pretty much any weapon in the database. We managed to beat them, barely, by modifying one of the perpetual-motive generators into an electromagnetic pulse emitter. We almost killed ourselves with it too, but it took out most of the drones. Enough so we could slip away.

I don't know that I've ever been more scared in my life than when I was down there… But… I think I might have been having fun too. Crazy how that works. It probably just depends who you have by your side in the thick of things, doesn't it? And while we were fighting down in those dark depths, I had ƉN::ᶌ. And that made it all right.

Anyway, we made it to the engine room, and ƉN::ᶌ managed to bypass a security lock and reactivate reactor 5. From there, she was able to reprogram the art-grav nacelle, and use the immense gravity field to rip apart the hull.

We tore off half of the ship's upper hull, along with the entirety of sector 43 (sector 43 being the cargo area where all the samples, livestock and crops from our planet were stored.) The gravity field gathered all this wreckage together, forming an enormous 'fistfull' of twisted metal and cargo. ƉN::ᶌ then used the gravity beam to guide this mass through the air to the farmland we designated, and spread it out there. The entire process must have been rather eerie to watch, I imagine.

There was only one problem now: if _we_ could make use of those gravity fields, chances are the _mimic_ could too. If she set the field to a high strength and low size, she could use it to physically crush our entire farm, with us inside.

With that kind of power, the mimic could kill anybody she wanted. And anywhere.

So, we removed the power control coupling from the last reactor, and destroyed all the spares. The coupling is small. Small enough to take with us, and keep hidden forever. So that's what we'll do.

We made back above ground without much trouble.

Now, everything seems in order. The livestock and seeds will be waiting for us in sector 43's wreckage, ready to be unpacked, unfrozen, and organized into a farm. A colony. First thing tomorrow morning, we're off to begin our new life.

* * *

-date: 3/14/2096-46'\

Two local years since my last entry.

Farm is going great. Got some trees planted, and some crops. The ecosystem is starting up, and the drilling worms have started breaking down the spacecraft hull. The cats are working as guards, which should be enough to scare away the mimic if she finds us here. We're breeding them for extreme hostility, meaning that whatever form the mimic takes, the cats will turn on it. I'm just glad this planet doesn't have intelligent inhabitants; as that could make for a rather messy misunderstanding.

I also found an old runabout shuttle stashed in the wreckage. We turned it right-side-up, half-buried it in the ground, and are now using it as a house. Its glass hull should keep it from decay, and its engines still have enough power to run heat, lighting, and farm equipment.

The place is finally starting to feel like home. The trees are supplying power now, so we don't have to ration anymore. And they're beginning to bear the first fruit. We haven't had actual food in so long, and it's delicious.

And… Well, there's one other thing. I don't really know who else to tell, so I guess I'll tell this journal.

Anyway…

I finally asked ƉN::ᶌ if she would be my wife. And she said yes. I'm not really sure what I expected her to say, since we're the only two here… But it was the WAY she said it; it made me believe that she would have chosen me out of a crowd. Like I would have been her first choice out of all the men on all the worlds. She said yes… And I'm a married man now! I'm really happy. I really love her. I'm really glad to be alive.

That probably sounded super corny, huh?

* * *

-date: 8/9/2098-46'\

Three local years since my last entry.

We lost contact with the other survivors. I don't know what happened to them. Maybe it was local wildlife or sickness, maybe it was the mimic again, maybe something else. Anyway, let it be known that this farm contains, to my knowledge, the last 3 survivors of the crash.

3 survivors?

That's what I said.

Because ƉN::ᶌ is pregnant.

I'm gonna be a dad.

Speaking of dad…

If this recording somehow gets to you, mom and dad… If the fabeled Time Giants ever find this log in the far future, and decide to do a favor for my present, and bring it back to you… If you're reading this now in the comfort of your own home after I've left…

I want you to know that I've finally found that life I always dreamed of. There's a little bit of adventure here and there, sure. (This planet seems to harbor some very improbable life. We're always finding ourselves in some weird situation or another.) But most of all, I've found home. I've found love. I've found peace. And I think… With the help of God, I've found a bit of meaning. Here, in a filthy, watery world at the end of the universe. Here, in the valley carved by the crash of colonial vessel 46.18'/. Here, where nobody else has ever been, is where I've decided to stay. And here, I am happy. I wouldn't trade it for the world.

* * *

-date: 16/13/2098-46'\

There was a fault in ƉN::ᶌ's manufacturing system. The child was damaged during final assembly, and… I'm not sure what happened. There was a problem with the release, and something snapped. There were sparks, and leaking oil.

And she died.

Her and the baby.

I made glass coffins so they wouldn't decay. And I buried them behind the house.

I guess that's it then, huh?

So much for our life. So much for our colony, and our future, and our children, and our love… So much for all that. Whoever's reading this, I'd dreamed that one day we would have healthy, happy descendants who'd be able to hand this to you. And they'd say 'Take this. This is their legacy…'

But what good are dreams?

Dreams are for young men… And today I feel old.

Anyway… If you're reading this journal, then… Then I guess I'm long dead. The barn and the tractor and the windmill will have been eaten all away by now… Only the glass shuttle-house thing will remain; that and the coffins… Give it long enough, and the farm will probably grow all over the place… The drilling worms and trees will have digested the last of the hull wreckage we drug out here… That will make for the only soil on all of 3.0 that can support metal life, so the little forest will have reached a maximum size and stopped growing. Due to the atmosphere, the crops can't spread seeds far enough to fertilize on the main wreck, and even the cats don't explore very far. So. By now all the livestock will be all feral, all the trees will be huge… It will all be totally natural. Just like God intended.

It'll be a little tiny drop of home, right in the middle of all this carbon slime. A tiny drop of home…

And that'll be all my legacy.

I'm locking the house up now, and I'm leaving.

I'm going back to the crash site. I go to find our last and greatest enemy, the mimic, and kill her. I go to ensure the safety of anybody who may come to this planet after us. I go in the name of peace. One final battle. One final adventure.

This is Ɖg }Nᶌ, last survivor of the crash of Colonial Vessel 46.18'\, furthest explorer of a gentle people, last civilized lifeform on this planet, farmer and doctor and husband and father, signing out for the final time. Whoever finds this… I hope God's plan for you is gentle. Gentler than it was for me.

May the Lord bless you and keep you.

Have a nice life.


	16. New Missions

The journal of the alien robot Ɖg }Nᶌ (or 'Barney', as they called him), and the story of his life, love, death and legacy finally concluded. Dipper and Wendy's scanned past the last words, and they stood up and looked at each other.

"Huh." Wendy said.

"Oh." Dipper agreed.

Wendy looked around the interior of the ship/house thing. Back in ancient times, this glass and metal chamber had served as the home of these two bizarre creatures. She found it kind of odd and kind of funny that in the end, they were nothing but farmers. Estranged and alien farmers, castaway from their home and hounded by trouble, but nonetheless their lives seemed oddly human, even ordinary in a way. And their deaths were now no mystery either; he had died in battle, out in the forest or deep beneath the ground. His wife and child had died in this very room; their blood still stained the mattress of the bed.

"So…" Wendy shrugged, and addressed their unseen ghosts out loud. "So… Wow. Rough life, huh? Hey… Hey uh…" She frowned. _What do you even say to ghosts?_ "Like, what's up? How's it going…?"

From between and within the walls of the ship, there came echoing a clanking, scraping and banking, like a person stumbling across a room, then easing themselves to a seat. Dipper and Wendy's eyes darted back and forth, searching for the source that wasn't there.

The room's lights began to flicker. Dark then light then dark then light, dancing and changing through the space. In between flashes, Dipper caught something in the corner of his eye; a pale figure reclining against the wall, not 10 feet from them. Wendy noticed it too and they turned suddenly, startled by its appearance. It seemed to flicker in and out of the room with the lights, just on the threshold of their ability to focus on it. Its head turned towards them, and stared with empty eyes.

From what Dipper could tell, the rest of its body was about what you'd expect: a very vaguely humanoid robot, with saws and spines and treads and claws; a wide head, thin arms with gears in the moints. Same layout and design as the lions, but smaller, thinner, upright, and with a piercing, intelligent gaze.

A second, slightly smaller figure could now be distinguished alongside the first, floating in the space above the ancient bed, as if sitting up on it without quite touching. The second figure rested its elbows on its knees, and cocked its head to one side.

The room went totally dark again, and Dipper began to notice noises. He heard the sound of his and Wendy's agitated breathing. He heard the sound of his walkie-talkie warbling and cooing and clicking, as it responded to the whispered words of some incorporeal radio signal. Dipper thought the signals sounded like voices…

Then, quite apart from the radio, he heard the sound of typing. Invisible fingers at work on an invisible keyboard.

Wendy noticed as words began to appear on Ford's tablet. She elbowed Dipper to draw his attention to them.

 _-Hello._ The words read. _-Now you know our story._

"Ooh." Wendy said. "Duuuude…" She elbowed him again. "Type something!"

"I don't know what to type—"

"Just say hi or something! This is, like, the first time in ever that a ghost isn't actively trying to haunt our butts. I think they're just saying 'greetings' or some alien thing."

"Oh… Okay…" Dipper bent over and began to type. _-Greetings. Hi. We read your story. How's it going? My name is Dipper. I'm Dipper Pines._

"And this is Wendy." Wendy added.

 _-And this is Wendy._ Dipper typed.

The invisible hands began to type again. _-Hello Dipper. Hello Wendy. I suppose you know me as Betty. And this is Barney. We welcome you to our home… Or what was our home once… It has been an eternity since we've had visitors…_

 _-Thanks._ Dipper typed, then tried to wipe the sweat from his palms. "Uh… Uh… What should I say now?"

"I got this." Wendy bent past him, and typed. _-We found the directions you left in the main wreck, and came here looking for answers. It's nice to finally get some, and nice to finally meet you guys._

There was a brief pause. _-We're dead, by the way._ Appeared on the screen.

 _-Yeah._ Wendy typed. _-We kinda gathered that part. You know, since it's been a jillion years since you were alive and all._

 _-A 'jillion'…? What's that?_

"Uh… Okay… I got this." Dipper sat back forward, and began typing. _-Figure of speech._ He said. _-And we're sorry, by the way. We didn't know this ship thing was haunted when we got here, so we're sorry for barging in. And… This is the first time we've ever talked to a dead alien, so… Sorry if we sound awkward._

The signal from the walkie-talkie sounded almost like laughter.

 _-You're good._ Appeared on the screen. _-This is my first time talking to whatever the you are, so… Sorry if we sound awkward too._

"Huh." Dipper looked at Wendy. "They're chill." He said. "They're alien robot ghosts, but they're, like, totally chill…" _-Thanks for being chill._ He typed.

 _-So._ The typing stopped for a minute, and when it resumed, it was lighter and faster. _-This is Barney now. You both have read my journal. You know who we are, and how it came to be that we're no long here. But now, if you don't mind me asking, who are YOU? I saw your read blood, Wendy, when you first came in. From it, I knew that you are neither the mimic nor her spawn… So I just have to ask, what the heck are you?_

"Oh, us…?" Wendy looked at Dipper.

"Uh…" Dipper looked at Wendy.

 _-We're natives._ Dipper typed, looking back at the ghosts. _-This planet's dominant intelligent race._

"Yeah." Wendy agreed. "And we call ourselves humans. Type that."

 _-We call ourselves… Humans._ Dipper added.

"And the collective noun is 'humanity'." Wendy added. "Say that too."

"Why would they want to know the collective noun?" Dipper shook his head.

 _-What's the collective noun?_ Barney asked.

 _-Humanity._ Dipper hastily typed.

 _-Wait._ Barney typed. _-You're both humans?_

"Uh… Yeah…?" Dipper frowned.

"Yeah… Well mostly." Wendy agreed. "I mean, logically there's probably some Sasquatch on my dad's side, but, like, you can't even tell."

"Wait… What?"

"Never mind! Okay, just…" Wendy shoved past him and typed. _-Yes. We're both humans. Why do you ask?_

 _-All I meant to say is that you two don't look much alike, so I wasn't sure if you were the same species or whatever._

 _-What do you-_ Dipper began.

"Oh, hold on! I think they mean this." Wendy set down her helmet and took off her backpack, and unbuckled her shoulder pads to show beneath them. _-Yeah._ She typed. _-This is just armor and clothes. Humans always wear clothes, and then we put on armor too when we're going somewhere dangerous. Our skin is all pinkish brown underneath though._

Dipper hiked up his own armor, to show the similarity.

 _-Oh…_ The ghosts said. _-Betty thought the armor was your skin._

 _-Common mistake._ Dipper lied.

 _-And what's that fuzzy stuff?_

 _-That's hair._

 _-Oh._

The four of them sat there in awkward silence for a good minute, while they thought about what to say next. Wendy picked her nose.

 _-Hi, this is Betty again. So, what brings you here?_

 _-Curiosity._ Dipper typed.

 _-Xenocide._ Wendy typed.

Dipper blinked and looked at her worriedly. "Well…" He frowned. "I guess you could say it like that, but…"

 _-Xenocide?_ There was a sudden sound like glass shattering, and the ghostly image of Barney appeared before them, with his arms crossed, his eyes blazing, and his head cocked to one side. _-Did your machine translate that correctly?_

"Look." Wendy buckled her armor back up, and bent over the computer. _-I never expected to say this to alien robot ghosts, especially not ones as scary-looking as you guys, but honestly, you seem like decent people. Really. You do. I think that you did a lot of the right things for the right reasons, you were kind when it counted and you served justice when it counted… Kudos. Seriously kudos. You've had a rough time, and by my reckoning, you were the good guys._

Barney shrugged.

 _-That being said…_ Wendy continued. _-You made some mistakes. Don't hate on me for this, but look. The think you've built here… This overgrown metal farm thing. It shouldn't be here. It's bad._

 _-Why?_ Barney inquired.

 _-You know what we call it?_ Wendy asked. _-We call it the 'Forest of Daggers'. Why? Because every life-form native to this planet gets cut and sliced by it. See my arms? See all the little scratches? That was just from clearing the brush off the top of your house to get inside. And see my man Dipper's face?_ Wendy gestured over her shoulder. _-He got that when we were swarmed by your little Piranha Spiders about two hours ago._

The ghost of Betty appeared beside Barney, and bent over a computer terminal. _-They must have gone wild…_ She typed. The buttons on the keyboard didn't move beneath her ghostly fingers, but they sounded like they did. _-We raised those for eggs…_

 _-Yeah, well, sucks!_ Wendy spread her arms in an exasperated way. _-The point is that your Piranha Spider Chickens are dangerous! They're sharp and they're aggressive and us native wusses are liable to get ATE. And that's not even to MENTION the giant drilling worms that almost crushed us, and the smaller bugs that nibble us, and of course the lions…_

"Yeah…" Dipper nodded. "One of your giant cat things really hurt Wendy's dad. And hurt my sister too. Those saws are… Saws."

"Yeah." Wendy agreed, and stood up from the computer. "Check it out." She pulled off the glove on her right hand, and then peeled the bandage off her index finger. Then she held up the stitched-up gash to show the ghosts. "See this? A little cub nicked me there the first time I picked it up. Just a touch. Just a tap. Tore me open. This is what your creatures do to our creatures."

Betty nodded slowly.

 _-So this place you left behind._ Wendy concluded. _-It's getting people hurt. So I'm real sorry. I know how much work you guys put into the place. I know how much it meant to you. Heck, you're probably still really proud of it, even after you're dead. But still… I think the best thing to do is destroy every last inch and ounce of it._ She glanced at Dipper for support. "Like… You know… Help me out here, Dude."

"Well…" Dipper shrugged, and began to type. _-I think after all that's happened, and everything we've all been through… She's right._

The two ghosts disappeared. A shower of sparks erupted from the ceiling as the lights went out all through the ship, and the room fell dark again.

Wendy flipped on her headlamp, and sighed. "Welp. Guess they don't like that."

Dipper toggled on his flashlight, and unplugged Ford's tablet. "We tried, huh?"

"Yeah… And besides." Wendy shrugged helplessly. "What do you expect ghosts to do, huh?"

"I don't know. Probably weren't much more than a category 4 anyway…"

* * *

Robbie stopped the van in front of an utterly ordinary looking tree. "So… Like, how do you know it's THIS utterly ordinary looking tree and not some OTHER utterly ordinary looking tree?" He asked.

"Oh, because THIS utterly ordinary looking tree is right where I remember it being." Mabel opened the door and hopped out of the van. "And it has a weeeeeird little teeny-tiny branch way up there that kind of looks like a lever."

Robbie got out and surveyed the lever. "Okaaaay…"

"So let's throw rocks! You've thrown rocks at things, right?" Mabel bent down and picked up a rock.

"Well, maybe at people and cars sometimes…" Robbie picked up a stone as well.

"So getcherself a-lever-flippin' sonny!" Mabel hurled her rock up at the lever, and it fell about 10 feet short.

As Robbie drew his arm back to throw, he got the strangest feeling that he was being watched. His eyes briefly swept the surrounding forest, but he didn't see anything out of place. He didn't even see the shadowy figure crouching at the top of a nearby tree, watching them with tired eyes.

Robbie snapped his arm back forward, and his rock contacted only 3 feet short of the lever.

Mabel threw again.

Robbie threw again.

So it continued for about 5 minutes, until their arms were sore, and Robbie was starting to consider whether there might be an easier way to flip an out-of-reach lever.

Finally one of their missiles contacted its target, and the weird branch was knocked upward.

With a click, a creak, and a hydraulic rumbling that seemed to shake the ground, the entire tree began to shift and shake and lower into the Earth. Mabel carelessly stepped up to the edge of the deepening gap as she waited for it to finish, while Robbie hauled the backpack of robotic samples out of his van and shouldered it over to the tree.

Eventually it lowered all the way, a staircase extended from the wall, and a door slid open at the very bottom. The noise stopped, and a deep hiss sounded somewhere far beneath.

Mabel found the entire thing charming yet overly complicated.

Robbie found it pretty sick all around.

"All right come on!" Mabel began to skip down the staircase with ease and carelessness.

Something rang true in the back of Robbie's brain. Dipper's words: _If I ever again hear that you've accompanied my sister into danger, and haven't protected her… I will find you. And I will beat you up…_

"Hey, wait… Look… Hey Girl Dipper, wait up…!" Mabel turned around, but didn't stop her descent. Robbie growled. "Look, just stop for a minute, okay!"

"Why?"

"'Why'? I mean I don't know what this is! I want to know why we're going down here, what's down there, and… You know. What's the plan? What are we even doing with these?" He pointed to the metal samples.

"Ah…" Mabel smiled and nodded, seeing that her loftly logic had fallen upon a deaf older brain. "So." She said. "We've got to find a new and better, cooler place to plant the robot forest. We need some place where it will be totally safe, and where it will do a lot of good for humanity and science and bunnies."

"Okaaay…" Robbie followed.

"But… I kind of realized we don't have a great place for them yet." Mabel explained. "We don't have a place to move them were they can be happy. But since we don't know what's going to happen in the near future, and because basically my entire family went all paranoid-poopyhead about them… We need to save as many as we can now."

"Sure… Okay…" Robbie frowned.

"So we'll just start ferrying them down here!" Mabel gestured down the stairs. "Great Uncle Ford had a whole abandoned lab down here that he never goes into, and it's got these really cool stasis tanks that can keep things harmlessly frozen for as long as we want! It's basically perfect for what we need! Will you promise to keep it a secret, Robbie?"

"Uh… Sure…" Robbie shrugged. "But… I mean, why was it abandoned?"

"Oh… Ha! You know…" She shrugged and smiled, as if reminiscing of fond memories. "Probably just because everybody got sick of having to dodge the mashy-squashy security room that pulps anybody who can't read alienese while playing hopscotch…" She pulled a paper out of her pocket showing dozens of bizarre hexagonal symbols, 4 of which were circled.

"WHAT." Robbie said.

"Or maybe it's because the stasis tanks are kind of prone to breaking down, and one of them holds an immensely powerful shapeshifting monster that's strong enough to bend steel with its bare hands and hated humans ever since Ford found him as a kid and raised him in a cage feeding him nothing but beans and he also tried to murder us last Summer and made a hideous mockery of my flesh that still haunts me on dark nights when the wind is chill… That might be the other reason it's abandoned."

Robbie processed this slowly and steadily. "Um." He finally said.

"Yeah." Mabel smiled. "More importantly, I tried to get Wendy and Dipper to kiss by locking them in a closet, but instead they took a shower and fought Shifty. They never did kiss… I would have called it… Dipendy!"

"…Why not Wipper?"

"Ooh, that's better, isn't it? Or maybe Dipwenperdy! Just too bad it never worked out. But who knows what they're doing now, AM I RIGHT? Wink wink!"

"They're just off in the forest being all platonic and holier-than-thou." Robbie groaned. "But back to the point: listen Girl Dipper: you seriously want us to go down into that dark, smelly hole there… Hopscotch aliensese or something dumb… And then just HOPE the crazy flesh-mocking monster hasn't gotten out like it's been prone to do…"

"Well when you say it like that it sounds like folly!" Mabel laughed. "But don't worry; it'll be fine! I think you'll like Shifty anyway. He's not so bad if you close your eyes and put caterpillars on your face." She turned to continue down the stairs.

Robbie grabbed her arm.

She looked at him, confused.

"Uh…" Robbie stuttered. "Well… It's just… Just no… Just NO! Look, we can't go down there! It's dangerous, and we don't have cool weapons or grenades or dual-wielding rocket launchers or chainsaw whips or anything! What if we die?"

"Pssh! I've never died _before_ in all the ones of times I've been down here! Trust me!"

"No." He said. "We're staying HERE."

"Why?" She demanded.

"I… I made a promise, okay? To keep you safe."

"Who made you promise?"

"…Your brother."

"Oh…" She laughed it off. "He worries waaaaaay too much. And besides, what about all these metal plant and animals! We have to find a good place for them and you said you would help! We need to get them frozen down there."

Robbie put on a scowl. A mighty scowl. A great, powerful, hideous scowl. A scowl greater than any scowl he'd ever scowled before; a scowl to put lesser scowlers to shame, and scowl itself right into the official scowling archives alongside the other legends of scowling history. Right as this scowl reached its climax, he spat out the word "FINE!", grabbed the hopscotch code paper out of Mabel's hand, shoved past her, and continued down the stairs.

She wiped his scowl-smelling spit off her face. "What…?" She frowned.

"I'll do this!" Robbie explained over his shoulder. "You stay in the van and keep my dad's shotgun handy! I'll put all this stupid sci-fi trash into deep freeze and be out in an hour and if I'm not… Throw another rock and close it back up… Okay?"

"Oh…" Mabel frowned slowly. "But then you…?"

"Then get help or something! Your grandpa or that fat guy or Thompson maybe. But don't you dare come in alone…"

He entered the door at the bottom, and it closed behind him.

* * *

Dipper and Wendy poked around the ship for about 5 more minutes, feeling more and more like unwelcome trespassers by the second. Finally Wendy gestured toward the exit hatch. "We should go…"

"Yeah…"

Just as they were about to exit, Dipper's walkie turned back on, and emitted a single word, in a thick, mechanical accent. "WAIT…!"

They turned around, to see the two ghosts floating near the middle of the ship. Betty pointed back toward the computer console, and nodded toward Ford's tablet.

Dipper plugged it back in. _-S'up?_

 _-We've been thinking._ Betty responded. _-And honestly, for a pair of hostile, heavily-armed aliens sent to destroy us and everything we hold dear… You seem like decent people._

 _-Oh._ Dipper typed. _-Thanks._

 _-And._ Betty said. _-Anyway, we've been thinking, and we've come to understand your point. Dipper, I'm sorry your sister got hurt. Wendy, I'm sorry you and your father were hurt. Both of you, we understand now. We didn't think or plan that the lions would behave like that, and… I agree with you. And we think we may have a way to help._

Barney's ghost stepped forward to type.

 _-You remember our journal?_ He said. _-In order to move all the metal from the wreck to the farm, we had to modify the engines on the main wreck._

"Oh, yeah?" Dipper nodded.

"Wait, I was actually confused by that part." Wendy turned to Dipper. "What exactly did they do? Use simple words for me; I'm not exactly a nerd…"

"Uh… The alien ships' engines work by manipulating gravity." Dipper said. "So they modified the ones on the big ship a little bit, and turned them into some kind of tractor beam."

"A tractor beam… Like in Star Battles."

"Uh… Yeah. I think so. Basically."

"Oh." Wendy nodded, happy that somebody used simple words. "Okay."

 _-Yeah. We remember._ Dipper typed.

 _-Those engines are still programmed on the settings we left them._ Barney said. _-So there is still a massive tractor beam focused on the farm. If you were to reactivate the engines, and turn them up to maximum power, the gravity flux would crush and destroy everything here. The bodies of the creatures here may be tough, but not that tough. The kinetic and potential energy of the implosion, combined with the mass short-circuiting of batteries, would generate enough heat to burn through the internal organs of every creature. Nothing would survive._

"Oooooh… Good plan." Wendy pondered this new form of carnage. "Like a reverse nuke; crushing instead of exploding."

"And no radiation; that's convenient." Dipper added.

"Yeah. Radiation would be inconvenient."

"Yeah."

"Yeah."

 _-Okay._ Dipper typed. - _We get it. So we just have to get back to the main wreck, and turn things on?_

 _-Well._ Barney shrugged. _-Not quite._ At the other end of the home, a compartment on the floor opened on its own, tossing aside an ancient carpet and a layer of dust. Dipper and Wendy's lights rotated to view it. _-Obviously, we couldn't have the shapeshifter using that kind of power against us. So we removed the power control coupling that runs the ship's last reactor._

Wendy reached in to the open hatch, and removed a small machine; about the size of a motorcycle engine.

 _-You'll need to reinstall that before operation, and that may be difficult. Do you know anyone with experience in this type of technology? Probably not…_

 _-Actually, yes._ Dipper said. _-I think I might know a guy._

 _-Excellent… I think that's everything you need…_

 _-Sweet._

Barney paused for a moment in thought. _-There is just one last thing I'd like to ask of you, Dipper and Wendy._

 _-What's that?_

 _-There was an act I never completed in my life, a mission whose threat has hounded my soul for an eternity now._

 _-Killing the shapeshifter._ Dipper guessed.

 _-Killing the shapeshifter._ Barney nodded. _-After Betty died, I went out to face her… Well, she killed me. She'd learned from our first encounter, and figured out exactly how to annihilate me. It was rapid, it was painful, and I was powerless to stop it. The mimic is strong, fast, versatile, intelligent, and merciless… And the last time I saw her, she had an egg with her._

 _-I understand._ Dipper typed.

 _-So… It's a silly thing, I know. There's no way she or her child could possibly have survived this long, seeing how the stasis systems in the main wreck are completely trashed… But… I would very much like some closure for that. For me, for my people, and for humanity too I suppose… I would like to know that she, and her spawn, are most certainly dead._

 _-Actually._ Dipper chuckled to himself as he typed. _-I don't know if the mom survived, but we believe her child did… We have him imprisoned in a bunker._

 _-Oh._ Betty and Barney exchanged a look.

 _-Kill it._ Barney typed. _-For your own sakes._

 _-I understand._

"So what is this stupid thing? It's heavy." Wendy said, and she hefted the power control coupling over her shoulder like a solid steel backpack. "Use small words, remember."

"That's… That's the key. The key to start up the tractor beam." Dipper said. "And we'll probably need McGucket. And they also want us to find out how the shapeshifter survived for as long as he did, find out what happened to his mom, and to kill him."

Wendy took this in. "Oh." She nodded. "Okay."

She turned and carried the coupling off toward the home's exit.

 _-So I guess this is goodbye then?_ Dipper typed.

 _-I guess it is._ Barney agreed.

 _-Don't see a reason to stick around after my haunted house gets smashed._ Betty added. _-Boooooring._

 _-Ha ha. Yeah._ Dipper laughed (although he had no idea how to relate with a ghost's problems.)

 _-I'm glad I met you._ Barney said, and gestured to Wendy. _-Tell your brother that I think you're both men of honor._

 _-Oh, uh… He's not my brother. He's a she, and she's my partner. Just a girl I like._ He sat there looking at the words for a second, wondering why on Earth he typed them.

- _You old enough to marry?_

 _-What? No!_ _Well, I guess I'm old enough to date maybe, but I don't want to ask her out. It's awkward and I'm kinda scared and I don't think she likes me._

Barney's ghost leaned over and nudged him in the shoulder with an intangible robotic elbow. _-Dude, don't be a dork! Ask her out!_

"Gah!" Dipper jumped, and tried to push the intangible robotic head out of his personal space, though his hand passed right through. "I don't… Uh… Huh?! Dude! Shush!" He said out loud.

"Huh?" Wendy looked back at them.

"Nothing!"

 _-Nothing!_

"Ugh." She turned away.

 _-Dude, come on._ Dipper typed.

 _-Ha ha. Get out of here, man._

* * *

The sanitation airlock finished its cycle, and Robbie stepped hesitantly into the cave.

It was about 10 times scarier than he'd first expected, (which is really saying something because he was expecting a lava floor). But he took a deep breath or two or three, and continued carefully into the chamber. The only sound was the distant dripping of water, and the only light came from little red status indicators, and ancient florescent bulbs.

There were the stasis tubes… Some were intact, some were cracked, and some of them were in such a dirty, overgrown ruin that he couldn't quite tell. He stepped up to one of the intact ones, opened the hatch, and tossed the pile of Mabel's samples inside. When he slammed the hatch shut, the freezing process automatically started up. All he had to do was get back out to the control room and make sure everything was still in order. Easy enough…

But then he realized he should probably get eyes on the monster first, just to make sure it was still frozen. He began wandering around the cave, peering into tunnels and crevices, inspecting every tank, looking and listening for any sign of the creature.

Then eventually, he realized that he'd checked all the tanks 3 times already. Even the broken ones. _There was nothing in any of them._

He began to feel the first hints of panic creeping up his spine. His breath started to quicken, and his skin began to moisten, and his eyes began to dart ever more rapidly around the walls.

A decrepit florescent light flickered tiredly in his peripheral vision, and he spun to face it with a gasp. Another one flickered to his right, and he spun again. _Geez, it's just the lights. This place is terrible on the nerves._

 _I shouldn't have come alone…_

 _I shouldn't have come alone…_

 _I shouldn't have come alone!_

He turned about in a circle. Was it watching him? Was it stalking him? How big was it? How strong was it? How scary was it really? How many eyes did it have? Was it spidery? He wasn't good with spiders.

He picked an old steel pipe off the floor, and held it at the ready. Dipper beat it once right? And if that scrawny brat can, how tough can it be?

 _I can take it…_

 _I can take it…_

 _I can take it!_

"SH-SHOW YOURSELF!" Robbie demanded, and silently cursed himself for stuttering.

Much to his surprise and horror, a voice answered him. It was hoarse and angry, and it screamed at him from one of the tunnels. "YEAH?" It said. "Come and get me then, you freak! I'm ready this time!"

Robbie's heart nearly jumped out of his chest, and he almost fell flat on his behind. But he wasn't so startled that a voice had answered him; he was surprised that he recognized the voice.

"W… Wendy?" He asked.

"Yeah, it's me! Woop-dee-FLIPPIN'-doo, you figured out my friggin NAME!" The voice screamed at him. "You tryin' to scare me with THAT? Not working! Now come on! Come at me! I'm not afraid! Not afraid… I'm… I'M NOT AFRAID!" As if to prove its own point, the voice's source stepped out into the open.

Robbie stared at what looked to all the world like Wendy. She was missing her jacket and her hat, though there were a few green-flannel bandages on her arms and legs. Her undershirt and jeans were stained and torn and sagging on her body, and as for the rest of her, she just looked terrible. She was emaciated and pale, with bags under her eyes and tangles in her hair, and scratches and scars all over her haggered body. Both her boots were missing, along with one of her socks. Her feet were tied in rags to replace them.

In her hand was clutched some kind of improvised bow, with a bent arrow cocked on the frayed string. A sharpened piece of metal was tucked into her belt, and another was tied to each of her wrists.

"But THIS time it's DIFFERENT!" Wendy said, and took a few steps toward Robbie. "This time… THIS time I'm walkin' out of here with your SKULL, you hear me, Shifty? I'm gonna KILL you and I'm gonna rip off your head and spit down your neck and I ain't gonna be your plaything no more and I'm gonna… I'm gonna… Come on you freak, come on…"

"Woah, woah, woah, hey I'M not the shapeshifter!" Robbie took a few steps back from the feral Wendy. "Like… Like YOU'RE the shapeshifter! Like, they trapped you down here, and now you look like Wen-"

"WHAT THE HECK?!" Wendy shook her bow threateningly. "The heck kind of game are you playing here? What do you want out of me? What you plannin' on doing with me this time, huh? And dressed like that?"

"Like… I'm not the shapeshifter!" Robbie brought the pipe up between him and Wendy's weapon, as if he honestly believed he could block an arrow in midair. "Stop calling me that, it's me! It's Robbie! And, like… Wendy's not even down here so you're obviously the shapeshifter…! Like, why are we having this convers-"

"WHAT?" Wendy took a few steps closer, and Robbie took a few steps back. Then he tripped on a pipe and fell on his butt, and began crawling backwards away from her. "You…" Wendy frowned, noticing his all-too-human clumsiness and fear. "You…" Her shaking hands slowly lowered the arrow from the bow. "You… Robbie…? You're… Real?"

"Yeah I'm real, you're the fake one!" Robbie staggered to his feet, and brought the pipe back up.

"Say…" Wendy's eyes searched his. "Say something only Robbie would say!"

"Uh… Uh… Like…" Robbie frowned, and hesitantly admitted. "I'm… Sorry for hypnotizing you…"

Wendy shook her head. "Oh… Okay." She said. "Okay… Okay dude if that's really you then you need to get out NOW!"

"Wait… What?"

"It'll be coming back at any time! It could… Okay, who knows you're down here? Who sent you? Who tricked you? Was it something that looked like someone you trusted? Did it look like me?"

"I kinda came here on my own and there was just Girl Dipper…"

Wendy rushed up to him, grabbed his shoulders, and began shoving him toward the exit. "Then you need to get OUT! It'll be coming back and…"

"Hold on, hold on!" Robbie put a hand against her chest and pushed her away. He was surprised by how weak and light she was. Wendy was usually kind of strong, wasn't she? "Like, I think you have some explaining to do!" Robbie said. "You said you're the real Wendy? Then how's she up there too? Because last I checked Wendy was fine and wasn't all… Crazy and sick and whatever and…"

"'She'? 'She' is up there? Come on! Come on… It… It took my life too…" Wendy sunk to her knees. "It took my life…"

"It… Oh… Uh… Really?"

"Come on…" Wendy shook her head, and there were tears in her eyes. She tried to wipe them away but instead they just smeared. "It… Nobody could tell? Nobody could tell the difference…?"

"Well…" Robbie shrugged. "I mean, you… Really? The Wendy I've been talking to was fake? How long did…?"

"You haven't noticed anything different about 'me' in the past 6 months…?" Wendy sobbed. "REALLY?! NOTHING?!"

"Uh…" Robbie thought back. "I guess… You haven't been spending as much time with us guys… And… You quit your job at the Mystery Shack… And you've been getting into a lot of adventures and stuff and… I thought that seemed cool considering all that happened last Summer… But it did kind of seem like you were becoming a dork… I guess…"

"And…" Wendy punched the ground. "AND YOU DIDN'T THINK ANYTHING WAS WRONG?!"

"Well…" Robbie looked at the woman hunched on the ground in front of him. And it first really, truly dawned on him that this WAS the real Wendy. "Oh… Like, sorry… Uh… I mean, woah… I mean wow, I'm _really_ sorry Wendy! Like, how did this happen? When did it switch? How did you get stuck down here?"

Wendy sniffled through her nose. "Nobody was looking for me… Nobody noticed anything… Robbie, did my parents notice anything?"

"Your parents? No-"

Wendy stood up. "THEN HOW ABOUT DIPPER?! HE—HE MUST HAVE…"

"No." Robbie frowned. "That moron didn't see a thing. I was the first one to find you."

She buried her face in her hands and walked in a short little circle, before picking up a rock and throwing it against a wall. "Okay…" She said. "Okay, you need to get out of here, Robbie. Get out of here, and play dumb to everyone else until you can talk to Dipper on the down-low. Then you can stage a rescue plan, but until then…"

"Wait, why can't you come now then? I have the airlock all unlocked, and…"

"BECAUSE!" Wendy pulled up her shirt to show a crooked red scar across her chest. "It put a tracker in me! Believe me, I've tried to get out of here alone, and it doesn't work! It…! It's not pretty, okay?! And it promised to do the same thing to my family next time…! So…!"

"What… Wait, what's it doing to you? Why's it keeping you alive?"

"Look, I don't want to talk about it!" Wendy gestured down to the scars and scratches over her body. "Half of it I don't understand, and the other half I don't want to talk about! Look, just get Dipper!" She grabbed him again and shoved him toward the airlock. "I can't have what happened to me happen to you too!"

"Oh… Okay…!" Robbie turned to leave, a little overwhelmed and horrified at the situation.

Before he could properly gather his thoughts, Wendy grabbed him again. "Wait… No… Wait." She said as she brought him to a stop. Robbie turned back to face her. She met his eyes and held them for a minute. Slowly, her head sunk to his shoulder, and she hugged him. "Robbie…" She mumbled. "It's… It's really great to see someone… See you… Again… Thanks for coming… Thanks…"

"Uh… Uh yeah." He hugged her back. "No problem. I'll… Like, I'll spring you from this joint, okay? We'll kill the monster and then…"

"Like okay, what's been happening?" She asked.

"Huh?"

"Back on the surface? How's Dipper doing? How's Mable doing? And… What's been going on with you?"

"Oh… Uh… Well the dorks just got back into town like… A week ago… Yeah, a week I think… And Dipper and… The Shifter went off adventuring… Thinking it was you of course… They all thought it was you… And I'm not sure all of what they've been doing, but they found this… Like, weird sci-fi robot forest place off in the normal forest place… And there were giant robot cat things that sawed people… Girl Dipper tried to befriend one of them, but it ended up attacking her I guess, and then there was this whole big deal with the…"

Robbie summarized most of his experiences in the past week, relating everything he'd seen and heard of the Forest of Daggers and its denizens, bitterly recalling Dipper's hostility and jerk-headedness, Mabel's imaginary romance, his grudging promise to keep her safe, and everything up to the present hour.

Wendy listened, and she memorized every word.

"And how about you?" She asked. "You been holding up okay?"

"Uh… Yeah… Tambry and I are still going steady. I've got a part in a band, actually."

"Oh wow, really? That's pretty cool! Still playing the same instruments?"

"Yeah, still guitar. Got a pretty sweet new one, though… Man, it'd be cool to show you…"

"Any… Any gigs coming up?"

"Yeah, that's the funny thing; I was gonna have a concert tonight…"

"Oh woooow… Where at?"

"Over in Boring. A little drive, but not too bad. I was gonna head over there once I helped Girl Dipper with her stupid thing…"

"Yeah… Huh… How's things with… You know, your parents?"

"UGH don't get me started…" Robbie shook his head. "You really didn't miss a thing there; I'll tell you that much… Still just the same douche-bags as always. Glad to get out of town for a while, really."

"I feel you…" Wendy laughed half-heartedly. "How's the…" Her voice got small. "How's the sun?"

"The sun?" Robbie frowned, thinking that was an awfully weird question. Then he realized how long she'd been trapped here underground, and then he really understood her meaning. "Oh, it's… It's still the sun. Nothing changed there. Still hot; still bright. Still… Pretty beautiful, I mean… Okay, don't worry Wendy. I'll bust you out of here before too long…"

"Thanks…" Wendy took a breath and nodded. "Hey…" She wiped her nose and pointed to Robbie's phone. "Maybe you could leave your phone with me…? I mean, you could find another one, and we could communicate…?"

"Uh… Oh sure!" Robbie pulled out his phone and handed it to her.

She turned it on, and began flipping through the apps, trying to familiarize herself with how the gadget worked. "I mean, can't get wi-fi down here but…" Robbie shrugged. "I think I have like, 1 bar of cell service… Want me to bring down a charger too?"

"Naw, this'll do for now…" After finding the messenger app with its text history, Wendy pocketed the phone with a little smile.

Then she leaned over and kissed him on the cheek. "Hey… Thanks for everything, Robbie."

"Uh…" He smiled, and rubbed his cheek, not quite sure whether he should be thinking about Tambry or kissing Wendy back. "Yeah." He shrugged. "No prob or whatever… If you need anything just call Tambry I guess…"

"Yeah… Hey." Wendy straightened up. "Speaking of which, did you bring any food? Like, I've been living off of rationed beans down here and… I'm just really, really hungry…"

"Oh…" Robbie searched around in his pockets, but his hands found nothing but his wallet and a gothic keychain. "Girl Dipper probably has some candy up in my van, but I didn't bring any food with me…"

"No food on you?" Wendy tilted her head to one side.

"Naw, sorry…"

"Well…" Wendy smiled. Her teeth were longer than they were a second ago, and razor sharp. She'd also become about a foot taller than normal. "I guess that's one final time you're wrong today."

"Wait… What?" Robbie frowned. Then he noticed the changes coming over Wendy's body, and his smile disappeared. "WOAH, huh?" Then the truth dawned on him; the full extent of his error. "No… NO HEY! Get away from me!" He stumbled backwards, and turned around to sprint for the bunker's exit.

The creature was fast enough to spin around in front of him in the time it took him to turn. It was only vaguely humanoid at this point, and morphing rapidly into something worse. Robbie tried once more to turn around, but the creature appeared ahead of him again. He tried to back away, but his backside ran into the wall of the cave. He tried to swing his pipe, but it bounced harmlessly off the creature's firm, white mucus layer. "GET AWAY!" He pleaded. The last traces of its Wendy form had disappeared, and a strange, sharp mouth smiled down at him.

One of its massive claws gripped the front of Robbie's hoodie. With one hand, it lifted him in the air. "Set me down!" Robbie yelled.

"You know…" The creature mused, in its true voice. "You came down here alone and unarmed, you accepted my lies, you tossed aside your suspicions, you bought it all up… I told you everything you wanted to hear, and in return, you told me everything I needed to know… I wanted to laugh for most of it, it was so easy… Why the devil did that girl enlist YOUR help? She seemed brighter than that last time she was down here… Heh heh… Get it? 'Brighter'? Because of her light-up shirt? …Oh, never mind. Dumb pun."

"SC-SCREW YOU!" Robbie gasped hoarsely.

The shifter chuckled. "Tell you what; since you helped me, I'll make it fast and painless. Close your eyes." It opened its mouth and reached for his throat.

"NO! NO PLEASE! PLEASE! HELP!"

Suddenly, the cave was filled with a blinding flash of blue light.

The shifter blinked and shook his head. When his eyes came back into focus, he found that his claw was empty, his prey gone. He frowned, thinking this was a rather unconventional turn of events.

He looked left. He saw nothing. He looked right. He saw nothing. He looked all around. The human was nowhere to be seen.

He expanded his nose and ears now, to scan the cave with all his senses. Just on the threshold of his best hearing, he thought he could make out a steady heartbeat.

And he smelled something. Something out-of-place. Something… Humanoid? Something in the back of his mind registered the smell as vaguely familiar, but he couldn't quite place it.

His eyes followed his nose up toward the cave's rafters, and there he found his target. High above him, cloaked in the shadows of a wide steel beam, there crouched a dark and silent figure. He could see reflections from two eyes.

With another flash of blue light, the figure vanished.

This time, the shifter felt something in his claw. A small slip of paper, that hadn't been there before.

He unfolded the paper, and looked down at the words written upon it.

 _-Beware._

 _-Heroes are watching you intently._

 _-And you do not deserve their mercy._

"Hmm." The shifter smiled back up at the empty rafter. "Well met, my new enemy."

And with that, he turned toward the airlock that Robbie had left unlocked. At long, long last, he was free.

* * *

Mabel looked up as Robbie appeared at the top of the stairs from the bunker; still looking super slouchy and gothic, but minus one backpack. With a grumpy mutter, he opened the driver-side door, and settled in.

"Soooooooo…?" Mabel kicked her feet. "How's Shifty? Still frozenified?"

"Yeah, yeah…" Robbie grumbled, as his eyes cast about the trees, searching and lingering. "Still… Still just sitting in the tube. Didn't move an inch."

"Hmm… Nevertheless, it's time for my… Skepticles…" Mabel put on her skepticles and leaned over into Robbie's face. "What took you so long down there?"

"Geez, get away from me." Robbie shrugged her off. "I was watching the monster, waiting for to move, all right? Like… That thing is freaky, and I wanted to make sure it was frozen. Like, what if it was moving every time you looked away, right? Like those stone statue things in Dr. What or something… You know?"

"Yeaaaaah…" Mabel giggled. "I wouldn't put it past him; he's a pretty clever guy and…"

Waddles suddenly popped his head up from the back seat, and looked straight at Robbie. His nose wiggled, and he began to make a series of worried little grunting noises.

Mabel looked from Waddles, to Robbie, to Waddles, and finally back to Robbie.

"What's his problem?" Robbie frowned at the pig with his characteristic distaste.

"Hmm…" Mabel stroked her chin. "I think he thinks you smell weird… Or different…"

"Well yeah, of course I smell weird!" Robbie growled as he held up his shoe, and showed her the bottom. "I was stepping through puddles of weird sci-fi ooze down there! Like, how long was that monster free? And did he ever have, like, a toilet to use…?"

"GROOOOOS! Robbie!" Mabel covered her ears as Waddles snorted, and ducked back down into hiding. "Waaaait…" Mabel glanced at Waddles, then put her skepticles back on. "Hmm…" She said. "Say something that only Robbie would say."

"Oh GEEZ now I have to deal with THIS…! Look kid: I did what you said, I froze the junk, and now suddenly I'm the bad guy? Lay off me, all right? You know it's me…"

"Hmm… That was pretty good… But now do something even _more_ Robbie-like…" Mabel skepticified.

"I hope you choke to death on your own puke." Robbie grumbled, and turned to regard the van's steering wheel.

"All right all right, you're Robbie!" Mabel giggled and swung her legs again. "Now… Back to the Mystery Shack, my valiant chauffeur! Yah! Giddyap! Full speed ahead! HARD-A-STARBOARD!"

"Ugh…" Robbie turned back to regarding the steering wheel, as if it slightly confused him. Slowly, a small smile played across the corner of his mouth. "Say…" He finally grunted. "Do you want to drive?"

"Wait… What?" She tilted her head.

"It's been a crazy day." Robbie shrugged. "A little more crazy won't hurt anything. You wanna give it a whirl?"

"What, like a date?" Mabel frowned.

"Uh…" He didn't really see how that logic connected. "Daaaaaate… Suuuuure…?"

"Then sure!" Mabel unbuckled and jumped up. "Man, this is so cray-cray…! Can I sit on your lap? I'm gonna sit on your lap! I need to sit on your lap because I can't reach the pedals! That's why!"

"Uh… Geeeez… Fine. Kay… But since you're the one driving, you have to tell me 'leftfoot/rightfoot'…"

"Mabel accepts this mighty challenge!" Mabel said, as she crawled across the center console to sit on Robbie's lap and accept the mighty challenge. "Attention First Mate Leg Officer! Present to me the keys!" She held out her hand, and Robbie placed the keys in them.

The van started.

"Okaaaay…" Mabel frowned. "Now give me a hint!"

"No hints." Robbie scoffed. "I'm just the Leg Officer."

"Okay… Right foot then!" Mabel declared. "That's the gas, right?"

Robbie hit the gas and the van revved.

"Oops, okay…" Mabel tried to shift it into 'drive'. "Hmm… The lever doesn't work… Oh yeah, you have to push the brake to flip the lever! Left foot!"

Robbie pressed the brake and the van shifted into drive.

"Right foot!"

The van revved again.

"Come on Robbie don't be dumb! Un-foot the left whenever you foot the right!"

"Naturally." Robbie said.

The van lurched forward.

"And not so hard!"

"Naturally."

The van slowed to a crawl.

"Harder than that!"

"Naturally."

The van accelerated down the road with increasing steadiness.

"Now where's the turn blinker?"

"Well, I don't know Captain; where IS the turn blinker?"

"You know what, Robbie?" Mabel turned them up the road, and toward the light of the sinking sun. "I was kind of thinking you're not such a fun guy, but I was wrong! You ARE fun!"


	17. Cats and Clever Mice

At the behest of the ghosts that haunted it, the small UFO's batteries had been powered up for the first time in thousands of years. Now that the humans climbed back up through the airlock and started home, the ship's lights and computers clicked back off, and the entire thing went dormant again.

But its brief period of electrical activity had not gone unnoticed.

The robotic predators in the woods had sensed it: sensed what they perceived as a piece of helpless prey, massive and immobile, trapped in the ground somehow. It 'smelled' to them like a feast. A prize to claim quickly before others did. A strange opportunity, but not one to be missed.

And many of them were very, very hungry…

The ship's electrical activity ceased and they lost track of it. But nevertheless, their red eyes turned in the same general direction. Their antennae extended to scan for even a trace of what they'd sensed moments ago. Saws spun slowly in preparation. And heavy treaded feet began to pick their way through the trees, carefully and silently and very, very quickly…

* * *

The trunks of the trees were hard and metal, the leaves cold and sharp, as Dipper and Wendy trudged stoically through the robotic alien forest. Away from the spacecraft, and the ancient aliens that had left it there. Their footfalls heavy beneath the weight of their armor, weapons, and the Power Control Coupling that could destroy this place once and for all.

"Is this the fastest way out?" Wendy spoke up after a while.

"I have no clue." Dipper glanced back down at his map. "Other ways could be longer or shorter, but this is the way we came in, so… It's the only way we know."

"Hmm-ugh." She made a thoughtful groaning noise, as she hefted the control coupling into what she hoped might be a more comfortable position on her shoulder. It didn't really work; after just a few seconds, the new position poked and pressed into her bones in an equally miserable way. But they kept walking anyway.

"Oh, uh… Hey Wendy." Dipper broke the silence.

"S'up?"

"H-how have things been with you?"

"What things?"

"Like… Things… Like, with your dad, with school… And I know you quit at the Mystery Shack 'cause now Melody is cashier, and you wanted some other job… How's all that… Going?"

She shrugged. "Heh… Well… I kinda need a resume if I'm gonna get a good job… But I don't really know how to start a resume, or what to put on it or what job to apply for… I don't want a job, honestly. But my dad's kinda been on me constantly that I need to apply myself and write one and earn some money… You know… Dads, right? It's just… I try not to think about it… Really, I just like it better out here with you. Adventuring, right? Where we're actually doing something significant… Ha ha… After this thing with the killer alien robots blows over… I guess I won't have an excuse anymore…"

Dipper listened carefully. Then he gave a little nod. "Oh."

"Hope dad won't send me up to the logging camp…" Wendy mentioned offhand. "It's kinda a ways away, and… It, like, sucks and stuff. So I better get a resume before he loses patience or whatever…"

Something started getting uncomfortable in Dipper's heart. He frowned and said. "Oh."

 _Will I ever see her again?_ After the robots were dealt with, and everything in the adventure got finished and signed off to the annals of strangest history… Would it just be him and Mabel again? Would Wendy be gone? Just another friend, who greeted him every so often while passing on the sidewalk? Who waved down at him from the passenger seat of another boyfriend's car? A idyllic childhood friend from an idyllic time, gone forever but never forgotten? Nothing but a sweet memory…? Was THIS all there would ever be between him and her?

"Uh…" He stuttered. "Uh…! Uh, say Wendy…?"

"What's up?"

"Well, uh…" He scratched his armor with a sweaty glove. "Uhhhhhhhhh… Do you want to empty your backpack into mine? That way you can put the Control Coupling into your pack, and it wouldn't be as heavy for you to carry…"

"Oh… Oh yeah! Good idea." They stopped for a minute to do just that. The Coupling didn't fit very well into an ordinary backpack, so they couldn't zip it shut all the way. But when Wendy shrugged it back onto her shoulders, it was much more bearable. Dipper shouldered the combined cargo from both their packs, straightened his knees with a determined effort, and they started walking again.

"Thanks." Wendy said. "Much better."

"Y-yeah… No… No problem."

They fell silent again, but Dipper broke it before long.

"Uh… Wendy, uh…"

"S'up?"

"Do… Do you want me to help write your resume? Like, I'm a pretty good writer I think and I know a lot of the stuff you've done and…"

"Naw… I mean thanks, I mean… If…" She sighed, and rubbed her hands across her face. "No. I have to do it myself. My responsibility… A resume is basically bragging. And while it's kind of weird to write an entire paper of bragging about yourself, it's even weirder to have a friend write you a bragging paper… Ha ha… You know?"

"Uh… Ha… Uh… Yeah…"

"Thanks though."

They walked in silence for a few minutes more, then Dipper finally blurted out. "Wendy?"

"S'up?"

"Uh… Like… I don't know. Never mind."

"Umm… Okay."

"Y-yeah, uh… Hey, are you thirsty?"

She shrugged. "No…"

"Oh, okay, because I am. I think a glass of water would be nice." Dipper took out his water bottle, and took a hasty drink. Most of it missed his mouth. "Do you want any?"

She shrugged a second time. "No…"

"Oh, okay."

They continued on.

"Hey Wendy?" He asked again.

She looked at him sharply. "Are you trying to tell me something?"

"Ah! Uh… No. No."

"Oh…" She squinted down her nose, making a skeptical sort of half-smile. Her Ellipses dragged on. "…...Kay."

A noise interrupted them from somewhere high above: a noise like a blowtorch, or a rocket. Dipper looked upward in time to see a small, bird-like robot diving out of the tree.

It passed right over their heads, then doubled back around, this time coming to a stationary perch on top of Wendy's helmet. Dipper saw that the 'bird' didn't have any wings to speak of, but just a pair of rotating rocket nozzles where wings ought to be. Its drill-like beak bent over the control coupling in Wendy's pack, and began tapping with a sound like a jackhammer.

"HEY!"

"HEY! We need that, you stupid!"

"SCRAM!"

They yelped and began to slap at the troublesome living aircraft, trying to shoo it. It fluttered its thrusters and boosted away, to a perch among a cluster of branches in the nearest tree.

Wendy growled, and reached up to put out a small fire in her hair, where the rocket exhaust had singed it. "This is gonna get old real fast…"

It got old even faster than they thought: a few more birds had gathered around the first, and were all perched above, peering down hungrily from the tree in front of them.

"Come on… This doesn't even make any sense!" Wendy groaned. "Why do they want this stupid thing? And _where_ are they getting _rocket fuel_?"

"Maybe they're solar thermal rockets?" Dipper suggested. "They use the sun's energy to superheat and compress the surrounding air into their tanks… Maybe the only reason they're not divebombing us right now is because they need a few minutes to inhale every time they fire their jump jets."

"…That actually makes a lot of sense." She frowned.

"I… Uh… read it in a sci-fi book."

The first bird let go of the branch and fired its jump jets, flying toward them like some kind of pigeon-sized missile. The other birds quickly followed suit.

Wendy brought up her axe, and swung it in the direction of the approaching flock. She missed the first one, and the second one, and the third one… Well, she missed all of them, really; the pests seemed to have exceptional reaction time.

A few latched onto her backpack and began to drill at the Coupling.

Dipper got around behind her and swatted them off. The birds seemed to know how small and fragile they were, and launched off before Dipper could properly hit them. But still they kept returning. They kept circling and dive-bombing and pecking and drilling, as if they believed the Control Coupling was the most delicious thing in the universe and they just HAD to have it.

Seeing as the situation was getting out of hand, Dipper and Wendy turned and began to run in no particular direction, thinking perhaps they would be left alone if they got out of range.

The birds kept up easily, for now…

* * *

Its red eyes turned in another direction. Something was nearby, something making a lot of movement and ruckus. Its antenna probed, and made out the signatures of a great number of carrion-feeding birds, all in commotion and activity.

This was definitely something… Perhaps the birds had found the large prey from earlier.

The hungry machine glanced sideways at the others beside it, and saw that they were already moving in the new direction.

Without hesitation, it followed the pack…

* * *

Dipper and Wendy's flight had led them to the edge of some sort of precipice. It was perhaps 10 feet across and maybe 8 deep, though its bottom was filled with a tangle of razor-sharp metal bushes: a perfect deterrent for potential jumpers. It stretched as far as they could see in either direction (not that they could see very far of course, but it would still be pretty hard getting around.)

Wendy noticed the spike-pit just in time, and rocked back on her heels and pinwheeled her arms to keep from falling. Dipper was looking over his shoulder right about then, and would have gone right over the edge if Wendy hadn't grabbed his backpack, and drug him back to level ground.

His heart leapt to his throat as he realized how close he'd come to the drop, but now was not the time for melodrama; the birds were still divebombing.

Seeing as how they couldn't really run any further without braving the pit, they turned and tried to attack the birds some more. It didn't really work, but perhaps a minute later, they got lucky when one of the little creatures made a mistake: it drilled into Wendy's shoulder, which was covered by her dad's chainsaw chaps. The fibers of the garment got sucked into the bird's mechanisms, where they instantly jammed its gears and tangled it in place.

Panicked, the bird fired its thrusters all around, trying in vain to pull away. Dipper noticed the situation, and leapt up to grab the creature in both hands. Its thrusters were burning hot, but he managed to keep a hold of it long enough for Wendy to bring her axe around.

She struck the bird in the head, and it went limp. Its thrusters wheezed slowly.

Dipper dropped it to the ground, and Wendy aimed another blow. She struck its head a second time, hard, and there was a cracking sound as its eyes went dark. She aimed a third strike at its torso, and there was a sudden small explosion as its compressed fuel tanks burst. A tiny piece of shrapnel bounced off Dipper's helmet, harmless but startling.

The other birds noticed the death of their brother, and swarmed back into the trees, where they paused for a moment to recharge their jump jets. But then they never launched back down. They just sat there. Waiting.

"Huh." Wendy paused to get her own breath back, and bitterly kicked the one dead bird into the spike pit. "Just needed to get one to make an example…" She exhaled triumphantly. "They're… Ugh… They're smarter than they look."

"Uh…" Dipper took a deep breath, in through his nose and out through his mouth. "Yeah."

"Yeah…" Wendy brought one of her gloved hands up, and pointed the palm at Dipper for a high-five. "Nice job, dude."

Dipper looked up at her hand for a minute. Then he looked past her helmet at her freckled face. Then past the goggles at her pretty green eyes. And his mind strayed far away, back to a library of happy memories he'd shared with her. _I remember the first time I high-fived her…_ He recalled. _That was when I fell in love with her… It feels like so many long ages ago… But I remember it like it was yesterday…_

 _"Don't leave me hanging."_ The present Wendy said, at the same time as the memory.

He high-fived her back.

She smiled and turned away.

"Uh… Uh… Hey Wendy?" He asked.

"Mmm?" She asked over her shoulder.

"If… Uh…" Dipper scratched his head nervously.

"What?"

"Like… Uh… Hypothetically… If I liked somebody… Like Pacifica. If I still really liked her, but… Like… Hypothetically didn't think she liked me back, what should I d-d-do? Should I just ask her? Like… I don't know… You know…?"

Wendy stopped. And she turned around, and met his eye. "Like… Ask her if she likes you, you mean?"

"Yeah…" Dipper stuttered, and couldn't quite bring himself to meet her eyes. "Like… Should I even bother…? You know…? I don't know… I… I don't know…"

Wendy stared at him, thinking. She thought for what seemed quite a long time; as if she were confused herself. As if she considered this question to be even more important than her friend did. As if she'd already thought about it many a time, but still hadn't thought enough. As if the answer meant the world to her. Dipper finally brought his eyes up to meet hers, and they sat like that for a minute, neither of them smiling or moving, just staring and thinking.

 _So I don't work at the Mystery Shack anymore._ Wendy thought. _So what? So this adventure is wrapping up; so what? It's not like you'll never see me again. I'll still be around. You'll still see me now and again… It's not like… Not like… Well… Well… No, it would be the end, wouldn't it? It is exactly as you fear, isn't it? But we can make plans though! We can make plans and… And… Wait… That's just what you're doing, isn't it? You're making plans._

 _Do I like the plan?_

Wendy thought hard for a minute more, then set her jaw, and stood up a little straighter. She finally broke the silence with a little smile. "Dude…" She began.

 _Snap._

Both their heads turned in the direction of the sound, and landed on a point in the shadow of a nearby thicket. From within, 2 large, red eyes stared back out at them.

The eyes of one of the robot lions.

The eyes were moving forward, their owner prowling slowly and carefully, stepping into the light. Dipper recognized the particular creature from a large burn mark in its side. The mate of the one they'd been fighting. And if _this one_ was here it's _mate_ must be…

Dipper caught movement in his periphery; a gleam of sunlight which gave away a second creature approaching from the right. The second had only one eye, and scars all around its face… This was the mother. Bestial menace of the week, and a real jerk to boot.

Dipper slowly drew his magnet gun with one hand, and glanced at its charge meter. It had maybe 4 electromagnetic pulses left in it; and then its batteries would be depleted. 4 pulses, 2 lions… If he was lucky they could immobilize them both. But as they'd seen earlier, it couldn't kill them. It only knocked them out temporarily… And he wasn't the best shot, and the lions weren't slow to recover… It would be close. Very close.

Then Wendy elbowed him, and pointed off in another direction. He followed her finger deeper into the trees, and noticed more shapes; more predators. They looked just as big and menacing as the two they followed. Big, mean, and hungry.

Dipper lost count at 5. The 4 remaining pulses in his gun began to seem beyond pathetic.

As she drew her axe (and wondered what good it would do) Wendy took a step back, and felt her heel touch the edge of the precipice.

"Dipper." She said. The word hung tense in the still afternoon air. "This conversation is not over."

* * *

She recognized them.

The ones that had slaughtered her children. That had stolen all which instinct told her to protect. The ones that had injured her. That had tried to kill her. The mysterious creatures that emitted no electrical signals, that prowled about her territory without concern, and which had evaded her so many times. She knew they were capable of attack; a stinging, strange attack that left her dazed. So it was with a great deal of caution that she approached her most terrible enemies.

She was hungry, and she was angry.

She was crazy, and she was wild.

And she would not be evaded today.

* * *

"Wendy." Dipper whispered, as his eyes swept the approaching predators.

"Gimme ideas." She encouraged him.

"We can't fight. We've got to escape; jump across the pit."

Wendy glanced over her shoulder, down the sheer edge, and into the tangle of knives below. Then she looked over toward the opposite end, gauging the distance uncertainly. "It's a long way…"

Dipper realized she was right. His adrenaline-filled brain sorted rapidly through the available options, and finally landed on the only reasonable one. "Toss me." He managed to grunt.

She glanced down at him, and raised an eyebrow. "What?"

"I cannot jump the distance! You'll have to toss me!"

Wendy stared at him for just a second, considering this. Then she gave a slight, understanding nod, spread her feet, bent down, and grasped him beneath his arms.

"GAH Wait wait!" Dipper yelped, delaying the maneuver for just a second. "…Don't tell Robbie."

"Not a word." She promised.

And then she tossed him.

He hung in the air for what felt like seconds, while the yawning pit sped by beneath his feet.

He didn't try to land on his feet on the other side; he knew he would lose balance or come short if he did. So he straightened his legs and caught the opposite ledge across the shins, and then slid down to level with his arms.

His fingers wrapped around a tangle of grass and a root, and the plants managed to stop his fall before he dropped away completely. His feet kicked at the wall below him, and finally found a small hollow sturdy enough to support his weight. He pushed himself up off the narrow foothold, and managed to get high enough to crawl fully up onto the other side.

Beside him, Wendy landed from her own jump more or less squarely on both feet, though stumbling briefly beneath the coupling on her back.

Their eyes spun around to look behind them.

On the other side of the pit, the same place where they'd been standing moments previous, the lions stared back with murder in their eyes. (can glowing red eyes have anything _besides_ murder in them? Unlikely.)

"Can they make the jump?" Wendy asked, as she helped Dipper to his feet.

"Native to a low-gravity moon." Dipper reminded her. "And made of metal… I think we win this bet…"

The lions seemed to think so too. After a momentary staring contest of sorts, both beasts turned and sprinted off through the trees, following the edge of the precipice around a bend and out of sight. The others stood and made after them, all moving as a pack, low and quiet and fast, following the first two toward whatever path would lead them around the spike pit.

 _They know a way around…_ Wendy realized. _We still have no time whatsoever._

Dipper racked his brain. The creatures seemed to be somehow tracking the control coupling, so stealth was looking implausible. And with the predators hot on their tails, they couldn't move very far or very fast… Certainly they'd never made it through the hour-long hike out… There was only one place around here armored enough to keep them safe; only one way to live out the day. "Back to the UFO." Dipper said.

Wendy nodded.

They managed to jump back across the spike pit (Well, only one of them jumped, but let's not mind the particulars). Then they paused to tighten the straps on their backpacks, hike up their leg armor, and take a deep breath before sprinting off into the trees they way they'd come.

The sharp leaves of the metal plants slashed and tore at them as they dashed. Jabs that the armor would have warded off at slower speeds now gouged them fiercely, not piercing through, but leaving bruises and scratches, and the never-ending threat that maybe (just maybe) the next collision would skewer straight through.

Up over deadfalls, down under logs, jumping from stone to root to patch of grass, always with an eye open for next stable ground. The footwork was tricky sometimes, and Dipper found himself falling behind. Wendy was 5 feet ahead of him. Then 10. She first noticed this around 15 feet, and stopped in her tracks, having none of it. He came up alongside panting for breath. "Okay, ditch the extra crap." She told him, and grabbed his shoulders to spin him around and open his backpack. In a mad rush, she scooped out their food, water, spare axe, and all of Dipper's tools. Binoculars. Geiger counter. Wrench. Wire cutters. Ford's tablet. All went in an unceremonious rubbish pile by the wayside.

Dipper's eyes swept the forest behind them, while his hands held the magnet gun ready to fire on anything that moved.

There! One of the robots climbed above the shrubbery to the summit of a fallen log; its eyes swept the landscape and landed on the humans. Dipper pointed the magnet gun at it, and let off a pulse. The gun jumped in his hands with the discharge, and the electromagnetic wave left the weapon at light speed, getting wider and less-powerful as it traveled across the forest. Unfortunately, by the time it reached the target, it was too diffuse to have any effect, and the creature just shook its head and spun its saws, before jumping down from the log and joining its brethren, which must still be approaching under cover of the bushes.

Dang it! Wasted a valuable shot… He glanced at the charge meter. 3 pulses left.

"Okay forget the whole thing!" Wendy yelped, as she yanked the backpack off Dipper's shoulders entirely, and tossed it into the bushes. "Come ON!"

"Wait!" He rushed over to it, and reached into the back pocket.

"We can replace it all! Just MOVE!"

His fingers wrapped around a blue, leather-bound book with a silver pine tree on the cover. "Not this."

"Guh! Gee! Dude!" She grabbed him by the back of his collar and hauled him to his feet. With a little push from her they were moving again, away from the threat which was surely overtaking them.

Finally, Dipper recognized the clearing up ahead as the same one they'd left twenty minutes ago: the UFO. Their sprint ended in the sparse vegetation entwining its hull, and Wendy bent over the entry airlock, working her fingers into the narrow crack. Dipper rushed over and joined her, and together they pried upwards on the hatch. It creaked open stiffly, just as the first pursuing lion emerged from the trees. Its saws extended, and it leapt towards them. Dipper leveled the magnet gun, and fired point-blank. The robot shuddered as its eyes went dark. It slumped over mid-stride and crashed to a stop, its saws just a few feet short of where he stood. That was too close…

"Come ON!" Wendy tugged at the arm of his armor, and jumped down into the airlock.

He was right behind her. But he planned his jump poorly, and happened to land on top of her.

They collapsed into a pile on the floor, their armor clattering in a furious, brief racket, their lungs shocked empty of air by the impact. Above them, the outer door slammed shut, and they found themselves in silence and in darkness.

They were safe.

And so they lay for a moment, locked in a close metal chamber, greedily sucking oxygen into their dizzy brains and trying to collect their wits. Dipper could feel Wendy's chest rising and falling beneath his, though past his own thundering heart, he didn't notice for a moment or two. When he finally did, he thought it was a terribly awkward sensation, so he stuttered something polite-ish, struggled to a sitting position, and flopped over against the opposite wall.

In the dark, Dipper heard her ease upright, and unstrap her backpack. A light flicked on in the darkness: her headlamp, one of the few things they hadn't ditched in their rush.

She pointed its white glow down at her backpack, and the dusty old McGuffin protruding from it. "Well… Ugh…" She sighed. "You know, in the half-hour we've had this thing, it's been nothing but trouble."

"Well… Hope it'll be worth it."

"Ugh."

"Ugh…"

Above their heads, they heard a scraping on the glass, and a hint of massive, yet soft footsteps. They seemed to linger overhead for a few seconds, then continued on.

Wendy glanced slowly after them. "So… What now?"

"Uh…" Dipper frowned, as he realized his plans didn't go a whole lot further than 'get inside and lock the doors.' "Uh…" He guessed out loud. "Wait it out? I guess? I mean, they can't get in, so…"

"You sure?"

"No."

The footsteps came back overhead again. This time they seemed to turn in a circle, and stop.

Then a deafening clanging noise sounded from the ceiling, and it seemed to shake the walls. Then another impact, and a tiny crack appeared in the glass surface, drawing whispy white lines of light through the dusty air.

"Yeah, you know what? Never mind." Dipper admitted.

"Ha ha! Ain't no rest for the wicked!" Wendy agreed, as she pulled herself to her feet, and began punching at the airlock's control panel, trying to open the inner door. "Come on come on you stupid…" A third clanging noise sounded, and the ceiling crack widened. A shard of glass fell and clinked on the floor, and a long metal claw reached through the gap. Wendy finally got the door open, and they stumbled into the ship's main room. Their eyes swept the small space, looking for any sort of weapon or escape option.

They found it.

"No." Dipper said.

"Yes." Wendy said.

"NO!"

"YES!"

"BUT… We don't know how…!"

"Dipper. Bro." She spun around to face him, a contented, mischievous, devilish grin on her face. "Look… Uh… Okay. Spending the rest of the Summer hanging out with you would be awesome. But I don't know if I can; I don't know how this thing is gonna look, or where we'll be or… What… But… But if _this_ adventure, _this_ day, is what we're gonna remember each other for, then I would have it be SUCH a day…! I say we go out in a blaze of glory dude; we take it all with us, and we bring back a trophy worthy of _legend_. We make SUCH a story that they will be telling it until you're a _Grunkle_ … How does that sound?"

"I…" Another impact sounded on the hull, this one sounded like it broke through the airlock entirely. Dipper gave the inner door a kick to make sure it locked properly. "But… I don't want a story, Wendy… I… I just… I don't care! _I just don't want this to be our last adventure!_ "

"Oh YEAH?" Wendy cocked her head and put her hands on her hips. "You don't want it to end, huh?"

"No! I…" He was interrupted by another impact, this one not on the airlock at all, but in the middle of the room's domed ceiling. "I don't want you to go…! I…"

"Oh yeah?" Her voice got lower. Over the sound of the robots' assault, he almost didn't catch it.

"Yeah."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

"Okay dude." She shrugged, and set her jaw. "Then… Th-then…" Something caught in her voice. "Then… S-so…" She stuttered, and shrugged again, as if on impulse. As if for once, she didn't know what to say. As if for once, the great Wendy had gotten herself so profoundly flummoxed that she'd lost the ability to speak. "So… Then… O-okay. Okay dude, so… _So are you gonna ask me on a date or what?_ "

Another impact above them, and this time cracks were noticeably spider-webbing across the ceiling, crinkling and tinkling with a sound like ice in soda.

Dipper's heart felt like it was beating out of his chest, and his brain and his soul were leaving each other so far behind that he didn't even know how to process what was going on around him. "Uh, the, uh… The uh…" _How do I do this? What do I say? She doesn't want that, does she? She can't! She's just daring me, but I know she means she'll miss me and… What do I do? What do I do?_

 _What do I do…?_ Finally he blinked, and he remembered where he was. And he heard the pounding, and he felt the peril. And he knew exactly what to do. He nodded decisively, and started toward their dreaded escape option. "Let's go."

Wendy smiled. "I'm the designated driver!" She reminded him. "You tell me which buttons to press."

She leapfrogged over the back of the pilot's seat, and landed squarely on the ancient, busted cushion, throwing up a fine cloud of dust. The seat certainly didn't fit her butt very well, obviously having been designed for somebody who was ever-so-slightly more squid-shaped.

Dipper climbed more carefully into the copilot's seat, and found his own butt sagging down through the tail hole. He buckled the ever-so-slightly too squid-shaped harness over his chest, and tightened the straps as far as they'd go, preparing for the ride to come.

 _All right._ Wendy reminded herself, as she buckled up too. _Nothing crazy about this; it's just like driving a car, with some up-and-down throw in, and no insurance. You got this._ She closed her eyes and let her mind drift away to her first impromptu driving lessons, back when she was maybe 13. Sitting in her dad's truck, while he pointed out the controls: The steering wheel… the stick shift… the four petals: parking brake, clutch, normal brake, gas… It was all very new and confusing to her back then, but at least she had somebody to see her through it.

Wendy's mind arrived back in the present, and she opened her eyes to behold the current vehicle's controls: Two omni-directional control levers, which looked like arcade joysticks stuck inside gimbals, which were in turn mounted on the end of short suspension arms… There was also a group of 4 small little levers mounted on a console that stuck up between her legs… And an annoying clutter of switches beside each armrest… A HUD helmet could swing down over her head like Luke Skywalker's targeting computer… And on the dashboard ahead of her? Hundreds of dials, gauges, and weird little blinky lights, all of them too dirty and dusty to make out the labels; even ignoring for a moment that the sparse labeling was all in alienese.

Her eyes landed on the floor in front of her feet, and she frowned.

"Why are there 8 pedals when there's only 6 directions?" She asked.

Dipper was currently searching in, around, and underneath for any kind of clue at all. "I dunno…" He mumbled. "Maybe there's a tutorial program…?"

"Or maybe…" Wendy guessed out loud. "We can just get lucky!" And she reached out toward the dashboard, and she tentatively flipped a small, unassuming switch.

Nothing happened.

She turned to another, slightly different switch, and flipped that one. Nothing happened.

She flipped another switch. A loud 'CLUNK' sounded from the walls, but nothing else.

She flipped another switch. A reading light came on.

She flipped another switch. Nothing happened.

She flipped another switch. A cupholder extended.

She flipped another. A pink light began to blink.

She flipped another. Nothing happened.

Dipper found what he was looking for: a small datapad that apparently contained some form of instruction manual. It didn't do a lot of good without Ford's tablet to translate, and it was about 840 pages long anyway. But it had a lot of pictures to help, so he scratched his head and began to surf, looking for the part where it explains how to start the engine.

She flipped another. An orangish-yellow light began to blink.

She flipped another. Something in the walls deflated with a tired hisssssssss.

She flipped another. 20 bright red lights began to blink, and a siren began to wail. She flipped that one back off.

She flipped another. The windshield defroster turned on. Well, 'defroster' kind of undersells it. All the dirt, rocks, and robotic undergrowth that had covered and obscured the vehicle's canopy all began to melt and burn away. Sunlight began to shine through. Soon it was as perfectly clear and transparent as new, and the teens found themselves blinking up at the glowing red eyes of the robots. Naturally, this means the robots saw them too, and they began to swing their claws at the canopy with ever more vigor. Another crack appeared.

Wendy flipped 5 more switches, and pressed the first and fifth pedals at the same time.

In a language that was most certainly NOT English, a small speaker chimed. "DO NOT ENGAGE HYDRAULIC GYROSCOPE SYNCHRONIZERS WITHOUT ONUBTANIUM CIRCULATION. CHECK ENGINE SOON."

"UHH, try that one!" Dipper pointed to a little red button. Wendy pressed it. Nothing happened.

"Umm… I don't know, that was supposed to… Wait, maybe hold the 3rd and 4th pedals in while you do!"

She tried that. "CHECK ENGINE SOON!" The small speaker repeated.

"Try the… Oh wait a minute, that wasn't the startup. That was the emergency fuel dump… Never mind…"

The robots kept pounding, and the cracks were getting wider.

"YO BETTY AND BARNEY!" Wendy hollered. "I KNOW YOU'RE STILL HAUNTING THIS DUMP; COULD YOU GIVE US A HAND?"

"Try that one over there!" Dipper said. "Turn that dial all the way down, wait no, all the way _up_ , and then hold that swich for 5… Uh… I guess seconds. 5 seconds!"

"CHECK ENGINE SOON!" The small speaker was getting indignant.

"Nothing's happening!"

"Try one of those over there then!"

"I'M GONNA PRESS EVERY BUTTON I SEE!"

* * *

Barney sat and stared ahead.

It was beautiful.

As beautiful and expansive and welcoming as anything in history had ever aspired to be. A dream of a painting of a child's naive imagining of an antiquated fable of a green and glowing paradise. A place where things were right, and powerful, and good. It was that life all people long for, that grandest adventure of surpassing purity and courage and meaning…

It was a place inhabited by a purified people, hailing from all nations and peoples and planets in the multiverse… It was a place of peace and goodness, designed and maintained by none other than God himself.

He could see this shimmering vision whether he had his eyes opened or closed. It was before him, and all he had to do was step through. The regrets and sorrows and unfinished business of his past life had haunted him for so long, keeping him here in this ghostly half-sleep to haunt it back.

But moments ago Betty had turned to him. "Well." She'd said. "There are people here who know the stakes… They're good people, and they know what has to be done. They'll bring this all to conclusion. Carry out the justice we couldn't… But I think our journey is done."

She'd pointed off into the distance, and showed him how their ghosts had always been so close to stepping into the beyond world. And she'd pointed even further through, and showed him a laughing little boy; a boy he somehow recognized instantly; a boy whose creation had been interrupted in the womb, and who had been stillborn in blood as a twisted wreckage. Never had Barney yet seen this completed product, and he was handsome indeed.

"It's our son…" She'd said. "God knows what he should have been, and he fixed him… We… We need to go…"

He'd stood there staring, while the seconds stretched into minutes. He wanted to step through. "You go…" He'd told her instead. "I… I'll follow in a little bit…"

"Oh… You sure?"

"Yeah… I'll… Just be a minute…"

"…I love you."

"I love you too."

And then she'd stepped through. And now this haunted ship was haunted by only one.

And now, minutes later, his incorporeal face was still bent in a slight frown. Why _had_ he stayed behind? Did he really think so much of this stupid old life? Was it just a whim? Or was it something else…? Did he really have unfinished business left?

He did.

In the furthest corner of his perception, he heard a great sound; that of beasts beating on the hull of the ship. With such fury that they were beginning to chip and shatter the glass, unsealing it for the first time in millennia. He turned toward the chaos, and in the middle, he saw the humans, buckled into the flight seats, pounding on the controls in a confused and joyous rage, their souls afire in terror and wild anticipation.

The creatures would finish breaking through the hull in moments.

Barney snapped his fingers.

* * *

Some three dozen switches on Wendy's console all spontaneously flipped at once, without anybody touching them. The lights in the cabin flicked over to a dull blue, and then a strange sound began to emanate from the ship's walls: the sound off immense and powerful electrical humming, the rushing of superheated fuel through generators, the spinning of dynamos.

This was how a spaceship was supposed to sound.

Dipper's inner ear made a tiny hiccup, as the anti-gravity engines auto-aligned themselves.

"Could it be…?" Wendy whispered to herself.

Hesitantly, but with great anticipation, her hands reached forward, and curled around the main control sticks. She closed her fingers around the grey rubber grip, and her right wrist twitched.

The floor rocked beneath them, pitching in the same direction she'd twitched.

The robots up on the canopy stumbled slightly, confused.

"Legend." Wendy glanced at Dipper.

"Legend." He agreed.

"YES!" Wendy pulled the joysticks upwards. Both their inner ears tumbled completely out of whack, as energy surged through the ships engines and through its gravity drive nacelles. Their craft lifted off the ground, tilted its nose for the sky, and hovered higher. The lions (not natural jumpers) responded with a perfectly logical fear, and hooked their claws into the cracks in the hull for dear life.

Wendy twisted the joysticks left.

The horizon began to spin and flip, prompting the lions to grip all 4 of their claws into glass, while the ship itself nearly plummeted out of the sky.

Wendy twisted them right-side up and pulled up at the last second, and they found themselves cruising over the treetops, nose up.

She pushed both joysticks as far forward as they'd go.

The nacelles began to howl. All the robots that Dipper could see lost their grips, and fell off, plummeting down to whatever grizzly death the distant ground held for them.

Air, light, and even space itself, began to warp and disturb itself around the gravity of the nacelles, as the vehicle pushed itself off the planet's weight, and blasted upwards toward the clouds on a thundering pillar of raw, fundamental force. Wind whistled off the cracks in the glass, sunlight shone through the cockpit, and on the console, all of the good lights were blinking.

Had anybody been watching from the town, they just might have seen the tiny disk of dirty silver streak skyward, just might have heard its frame shaking as it approached the speed of sound. And maybe, just maybe, they could have heard the triumphant war whoops of the teenagers inside, rejoicing in this, their greatest of hard-won victories.

* * *

Barney smiled, feeling overcome with such a profound feeling of peace and readiness. And he stepped through.

* * *

The lion gripped for all she was worth.

The ground was a memory at this point; somewhere up or down or left or right and she'd quite forgotten. All that was real, all that she could hold on to, all that kept her alive, was the dirty and smooth glass surface beneath her, and the jagged hole busted into it.

The claw of her foreleg remained hooked around some truss inside the hole, while her other searched for purchase among the various plants and clods of rock still resisting the wind. Her rear legs had found a seam in the hull, and there she'd kept them, barely daring to move, lest the slightest miscalculation free her to die.

She turned her attention to the hole her foreleg was hooked in. She extended her saws deeper into the gap, and began to cut into the machinery within, hoping to find a better grip, clear enough room to climb inside, or else anchor herself some other way. Anything was better than the horrid heights swirling about her…

With all the grit and savagery of a cornered wild cat, she dug and she pulled and she drilled, her entire killer heart filled to the brim with the single and dominating will to survive.

She would survive.

She would survive.

It was instinctive.

* * *

 _Author's Note:_

Well, that Chapter was a lot more fun to write than I ever would have expected. It's 2:00 in the morning and I feel a little exhilarated. Maybe it's because I finally got to a bit of a milestone in the story. This chapter concludes the primary mystery, fulfills the promise of the introduction, and sees two OCs vanish forever.

The next Chapter is where things get... Strange...

But hey, recently this story hasn't been getting many reviews. I'm not sure if I'm losing people's interest or if the plot has gone stale or what, but if you liked this sci-fi/fantasy/humor/romance/mystery adventure I've invited you on, please leave a review saying you did. It would mean a lot to me. And if you have advice? PLEASE say so. This entire story is fundamentally practice for me to become a better writer and storyteller, so I'd love to know what I'm doing right and wrong.

And with that, dear readers, I bid you all a very fond adieu...

 _Your eye strays aside from the show for just a moment, distracted by some other detail your wandering mind detected. But a sudden twinkling glow draws them back centerstage, and you see that in your moment of inattention, CodyLabs has disappeared in a flash of blue light! Where did he go? Where could he have hidden? And who took him? As the curtains draw closed and the strange shapes pass overhead, you wonder if perhaps you're going mad yourself..._


	18. She Cheated

_Author's Note:_

If you liked this story so far, you might enjoy some of my other work too, that exists in the same little AU sort of thing, and which _may_ add to the overall narrative. (To make them proper links, just replace the spaces with periods).

Here's a partially-completed comic about Wendy, that takes place about 7 months before this story: codylabs deviantart com/art/Gravity-Falls-Wendy-Vs-The-Future-Page-1-670009382

And here's a one-shot about Dan that happens at the same time as this story: www fanfiction net/s/12688671/1/Dan-s-Odd-Day

* * *

 _Author's Note That Isn't Shameless Self-Promotion:_

Okay, I just gotta say thanks for all the great reviews last Chapter. Really made me want to put my all into this, which is part of the reason this chapter is finished and out so quick. So... Yeah. I'm really glad you're enjoying it, and thank you so much for taking the time to share the journey.

Now.

Now, I just hope you're willing to follow where it leads. I wrote this chapter, and now I can't unwrite it. And I just clicked the 'post' button, and now I can't unclick it. I am, as always, going exactly where my whimsical ideas and prematurely-conceived foreshadowing lead me.

Enjoy.

* * *

When you're flying in a normal human rocket, it can be rather painful. The vehicle's engines push the ship forward with their own force, while the rest of the vehicle's frame has to hold together under the stress of keeping up. Passengers feel as if pressed backwards into their seats, since the rocket is trying to accelerate forward, but every molecule in their bodies just wants to stay at rest. By all accounts, it's an uncomfortable, squashing sort of feeling. Not exactly a perk of space travel.

But that's only the case for human rockets.

Alien spaceships are a little different. Their engines directly manipulate the gravitational field, essentially making the ship _fall_ in whatever direction it's told to. The passengers don't feel the acceleration or the force at all, since the entire ship: engines, frame, passengers, fuel, is all falling together with the exact same speed and acceleration. A rather floaty sort of experience; much easier on both person and machine.

But that's only the case for _new_ alien spaceships.

The situation is rather worse for old, beaten, battered, ancient ships, who've been half-buried in the hard ground for millennia while their fuel decays and their seals rot and their alloys rust. Their gravity field might be more intense here but less intense there; half the pilot's body might be pulled too strongly in the direction of travel, while the other half feels left behind. As the direction of thrust changes, waves of stress and strain swirl and shift through the cabin.

Long, stiff bits like bones feel it the worst. It's a stretching, pummeling sort of feeling, that makes the blood begin to boil and the head begin to hurt and the joints begin to ache and the occasional redheaded teenage pilot begin to wonder: _Why in Paul Bunyan's name did I ever think this was a good idea?_

Wendy finally couldn't force herself to hold onto the joysticks any longer, and let go. Her hands came away shaking, and the rubber grips were moist. Soon as she released them, the noise from the reactors died off, and the ship went back into true free-fall, drifting upwards on its momentum, while air resistance and the Earth's natural gravity slowly brought it back down.

"Oh, ugh, Geez…" Her voice didn't carry far above the wind, but Dipper heard her.

"Yeah… Woah… Ha ha…" He glanced at her in a bewildered way, and began to laugh as he sorely rubbed his temples. "Ha ha… Ow… HA HA HA HA!"

"Ha ha!" She tried to massage her arms, squinted her eyes shut, and began to laugh too. "HA HA OH GEEZ HA HA HA… Wooooooah this is a bit worse than I thought…"

"Ha… HA HA… What, is pain hilarious now…?" Truth be told, they weren't laughing at the pain, but at the unexpectedness of it. They'd just departed a rather perilous situation, and hadn't expected a clean getaway to be quite so achey.

Dipper's eyes drifted back out the dome-shaped window above them, and he saw the horizon spinning lazily. The ground was about 10,000 feet away, and getting gradually closer. Perhaps they weren't all _that_ safe… "Ha ha… Uh… Oh man, just get us on the ground, how 'bout. Ha ha… Ha ha…"

"Sure thing Cap'n… Aww man, okay… Oooooh, this is not quite the way I imagined it…"

She grabbed the joysticks again, and twisted and pulled. The ship flipped over to something close to right-side-up, and began something vaguely like a controlled descent.

It was absurdly hard to keep it going in a straight line, and the smallest mistake sent it tumbling or drifting in one direction or another. Nevertheless, she thought she was getting the hang of it, as she pulled up and leveled out over the ground.

Dipper gripped the armrests for stability, and turned his gaze out the window, looking for landmarks.

There was some kind of high peak in the distance, jutting hard and stony above the surrounding trees… That must be the Multi-bear's lair. And that means the town must be somewhere West of here… Which way was West? Wendy slipped up for a moment and the ship tipped up on its side, which coincidentally let Dipper find the sun as a reference. It was mid-afternoon in Summer, so West should be… That way! "Uh… Go tha… Turn Starboard! T-t-two-o'-clock!" He squealed, and raised a hand to point.

"Yep! Yeah, I got you, fam…!" She grunted, as she spun the ship.

"No no! Too far!"

"It's touchy, it's touchy… Oooookay! Yeah, here we go. There!"

"Waitwaitwait now pull up! PULL UP!"

"I'm pulling up, and… Oh man I can't see the ground!" She gave the sticks another twist.

"Wendy! Now we're upside-down!"

"Yeah, well, now I can see the ground! …See? Look! You can just look right up and see how far you are from crashing!"

"You're gonna hit the trees!"

"…Why would the put they dome on the top anyway? Like, you never really need to look _up_ …"

"You're gonna hit the trees!"

"Are not."

"Are too!"

"Are not."

"ARE TOO!"

They didn't.

"…But it was too close!" Dipper said.

"Hey, who's the one with the driver's license here?"

"You have a learner's permit for CARS!"

" _I_ think you _like it_!"

"I…! Huh? _Nooooo…_ "

Wendy gave the next ridge a little more room, and now they were high enough to see across the valley. There were the hanging cliffs! They were looking a little upside-down at the moment, but still clearly recognizable. The town should be a mile or so in front of them.

Dipper saw the church steeple first, then the barrel and crate factory, and now he could see the town in its entirety. _Hey everyone! Check it out! We're in a UFO! Cool, right?_

As the town square sped by below, he caught a glimpse of confused, upturned faces from the street. Wendy slowed down slightly at this point, searching for the next reference to get them headed for their final landing site: The Mystery Shack's lawn.

She found the water tower out of the corner of her eye, swung the ship around, and punched the throttle, this time almost enjoying the rush of acceleration, even with the vibrating gravity fields. _I'm actually getting the hang of this!_ She though. _Once you get the hunk of junk off the ground, it actually handles pretty well. This isn't actually so hard!_

"I gotta say dude…!" She hollered over the wind. "You sure know how to show a girl a good—"

But then something happened that wasn't supposed to happen.

An explosion rocked the ship.

Something on the Port-side 'wing', just outside their view from the dome, had just blasted to pieces for some reason. Part of the vehicle's glass hull paneling shattered away entirely, throwing off the vehicle's aerodynamics and sending them spinning for the ground. Smoke filled the cabin before the wind whipped it away. Blue flames roared in their periphery. Sparse debris could be seen floating in the air around them. All the lights on Wendy's console turned either off or turned red.

And there were no ejection seats.

As for Wendy, the whiplash of the blast had swung her head, hard, into the seat's lousy excuse of a headrest. She was wearing a football helmet, but still, it logically must have done some damage… Right? _I might have a concussion… But I'm still the one with the controls! I'm still the pilot! I remember my old Wrestling Coach said you don't often notice concussions right away… Which means I have a couple seconds of control left at least! I can still land it!_ So she locked her eyes on the horizon out the window, and fought to level the vehicle.

It was slow and clumsy to respond this time. The gravity field was even more uneven, and the ship rolled left as she pulled up; as if the entire Port side was just dead weight. They plowed through several trees before she got it a little higher.

Dipper yelled something about cancelling out the lost torque by using the pedals. She didn't really get the gist.

Past the fire and the smoke and a rapidly evolving headache, she made out a familiar shape: the Mystery Shack, coming up fast. They were almost there!

She tried to aim for the green, and pulled back to decrease their speed as much as possible. But the ship malfunctioned one last time; went into one last tumble off-course.

The impact was sharp and severe. Wendy's head whipped hard into the back of her seat, and unconsciousness was a welcome reprieve.

* * *

Stanley woke up from a most peculiar nightmare.

* * *

Minutes previous, the van door opened and Mabel slid down off Robbie's lap, landing on the Mystery Shack's driveway. Waddles squeezed through behind the driver seat, and plopped to the ground next to her.

"Hey, thanks for letting me drive, Robbie!" Mabel smiled. "That was pretty fun!"

"Yeah, no problem… No problem…" Robbie nodded, and twiddled his fingers in his lap while he thought.

"And uh… Thanks for everything, Robbie." She added. "Thanks for helping me with the thing, and thanks for being nice to Waddles, and… And for keeping me safe and stuff… I mean…" She snapped a sudden salute. "Future robobotanists of the world applaud your brave efforts, soldier!"

"Yeah, it's… It's no problem…" Robbie shrugged. "I guess… Uh… Say, when did your brother and Wendy want to be picked up at the forest again? 5:00 or something?"

"Uh… I think they said 4:00…?" Mabel frowned, and glanced at her watch. "And it's like 3:00 now, so…"

"Yeah… Ugh… Kay…" Robbie sighed and pulled out his phone, to scroll through his recent messages. "I got a concert tonight too…" He sighed. "All the way in… Boring… They'll kill me if I'm not there for practice, and Tambry will kill me too if I'm not there beforehand to hang out with her… So… Aww man, and it's like a 2 hour drive…"

"So when do you need to leave?" Mabel scratched her head.

"'Bout… A half hour ago…"

"Ha ha! Wooooowww…!" Mabel giggled, feeling sorry for him but feeling like mocking him at the same time. "Why did you ever agree to pick up Dipstick and Wendoid?"

"I'm not sure… I forget."

"Weeeell… Oh, you know what?" She smiled. "I can just ask me Grunkles to come pick them up!" She pointed towards their RV. "They'll understand."

"…You sure?" Robbie frowned.

"Oh yeaaaah we got this! You go! Go! You go to that concert, and you shred some mad guitar, and you blow their MIIIIINDS! I believe in you!"

"Uh… But you're sure you can pick them up?" Robbie asked. "I'm okay and stuff?"

"Oh yeah! It's all good!"

"Okay…"

"Well, we also got some cold pizza in the fridge! Do you wanna come in and chow down for a couple minutes before you go? _It's got glitter on it…!_ "

He gave her a weird look (the same look everybody seemed to give when offered food and glitter in the same sentence.) "NO." He explained.

"Welp! See you around then, champ!" She punched him in the arm. "May the magical happiness spirits guide you on your path to bedazzlement!"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah…" He growled, and pushed her hand away. His eyes landed on the steering wheel for no specific reason, and he stared long and hard, thinking. Mabel watched him, wondering what he was going through his head. "Look…" He finally turned back to her, and sighed. "Could we talk serious for a minute, Girl Dipper?"

"Ha ha! It's 'Mabel'! Ah-duuuurrrrr!"

"Yeah, yeah, 'Mabel'. Whatever. But… Really, could we talk serious for a minute? Without… Glitter, and cute animals and nonsense, okay?"

"Uh…" Mabel didn't like the way the conversation was heading one bit, but Robbie made it sound important. "Okay…"

"Look." He repeated. "I'm not your boyfriend. You pretended like that was the way it was, to… To trick your brother or whatever? Yeah, good going with that… But… But it's not true. I don't…" He sighed. "You're a nice girl. Really. You're, like, a really sweet, innocent person, and you try to be super nice and everything, even to killer robots, even to killer aliens, even when it's _dumb_ to be nice… And you're my friend… But… I don't like you. At all. I don't like hanging around with you, I don't like speaking with you, I don't really like helping, and… I wish you didn't bring me along today."

His words stung. "…Oh…" Mabel's smile deflated slowly, and something small, deep inside her, turned from sweet to sour.

"And…" Robbie scratched his head. "I know you hate growing older. And I know you hate what your brother and Wendy are doing: destroying the robo-aliens. I know you've got a vision of some happy little… Some dainty little animal paradise once this is through, that you'll become some ultra hippy scientist god who forces adorable goodness down everybody's throats every day of every year… You want to believe that it can all be sweetness and sparkles and crap forever… Look, I can't pretend to know what's going through your head, so I won't. But Mabel… It. Won't. Work."

Mabel's frown deepened.

"This world is hard and cruel." He explained. "The harsh, contested domain of wicked men. And the sweetest person in the world can't fix it. And the sweetest person in the world can't stay sweet for long. The robots are going to die, or be contained, quarantined, and weaponized, and there's nothing you or anybody can do to make it happy. If you keep opening your heart up to people and things, and seeing the good in everyone… If you keep living that lie, your heart's GONNA be broken… Your spirit will break… And you'll turn hateful inside."

Her eyes fell to the ground.

"And frankly." He pressed on. "Pigs don't live very long. Your 'Waddles' is gonna end up in somebody's stomach in a couple years at best. Same with everything and anyone else you've ever loved. Things die. Things end. Your parents will die. Your uncles will die. Your brother will die. All your friends will die, and finally, you will die. _And those who outlive you will remember you for your selfishness and your many tragic mistakes and NOT for your sweetness_ … You need to grow up, Mabel. You need to learn to _think_ … You need…"

Robbie scowled deeply, a grim and evil look that fit him well. The sincerest, most honest look he could have given. "Learn to think dark thoughts, my girl." He concluded.

And then he closed the door, put his van in gear, and rolled off down the road, leaving her brain and heart a confused and injured mess.

The ground in front of her feet wasn't very interesting, but it held her attention anyway.

Waddles came up next to her and nuzzled her knee with his cute little pig nose.

She glanced over at him, and their eyes met.

"That's not the real Robbie." Waddles said.

"Oink grunt snort." Was the actual noise that came out.

"I still love you." Were the words Mabel heard.

She bent down and hugged him, and a single grim, dark tear rolled down her cheek. "I wanna do the right thing…" She whispered. "Can't I do the right thing…? Can't I… Can't… There's a happy ending here, isn't there?"

"I feel deeply and profoundly afraid." Waddles said. "Give me some food."

"Grunt snoik grunt." Was the actual noise. "Oink grunt."

Mabel sniffled. "Yeah… Ha ha… Yeah… I guess you're right… It's just one of life's great mysteries, isn't it…?" She hugged him just a little tighter. "Thanks for believing in me though… Say, are you hungry?"

He'd already said that he was.

So Mabel stood up, brushed a strand of hair from her eyes, and continued toward the Shack.

Soos met her at the door, dressed in his suit and fez. "Hey, S'up dude!" He smiled, offering her his fist. "How's it hangin' today, my dopest dawg?"

Mabel chuckled lowly, not much in the mood for humor. "Now what in the world could this be…?" She faked puzzlement as she punched his fist anyway. "It looks just like Mr. Mystery, but it sounds just like Soos…?"

"OOH! Oh yeah! Right! Sorry dude! Right!" Soos hurried to lower his eyepatch, and give his 8-ball cane a clever little twirl. " _Greetings_ …" He recited, in a mysterious voice. " _Welcome back, dear child, to the deep and miry domain of Bewilderment and Befuddlement that is the world-renowned Mystery Shack…!_ " He twirled his free hand, to reveal an ice cream sandwich which must have been hidden up his sleeve for some mysterious reason. " _Would you dare be entreated to one of our mysteeeeeriously magic mystery snacks?_ "

She chuckled lightly, and gave him a half-hearted punch in the gut. "No… That would break my diet." She explained sadly. "My doctor said I shouldn't have anything but shame, pouting, and dread for the rest of the day…"

"Oh…" Soos frowned in understanding, then sat down on the floor, with his legs straight ahead of him; low enough to look her straight in the eye. "That's a sucky diet, dude." He nodded wisely.

"Yeah…"

"Hmm…" Soos stroked his chin. "I've got an idea, dawg. Why don't we make an exception? Just for right now? You break your diet and I'll break mine, just for one crazy, bonkers, kooky snack."

"Heh…" Mabel tried to chuckle. "Wait… You're on a diet…?"

"Of course!" Soos nodded. "A diet of food! So how about it? You break your diet of sadness and eat an ice cream sandwich, and I'll break my diet of food and eat some grass. Even-steven, dawg. Whaddaya say?"

Mabel laughed for real this time, though not as powerfully as normal. "Okay… We can do that."

"Great! Anything to shorten up that face of yours!"

"Shorten my face…?"

"Yeah! You know how everybody always says, like, 'why the long face', or whatever? Well I just thought, like, why isn't 'why the short face' a thing for when you cheer up? Ha ha… Right?"

"Woah, that's so wise…" Mabel admitted, reaching for the ice cream. "Okay, you win. Let's-"

A faint explosion echoed across the valley and in through the front door. They both froze.

"Duuuuuude the 4th of July isn't for 3 more weeks. That means somebody's gone totally insane… I don't like it, duuuude…"

"That didn't sound like a firework…"

They both rushed out onto the porch, their eyes searching for the source of the noise. Mabel found it: a disturbance in the distant air; a trailing plume of smoke somewhere above the town. It was thick and dark, almost greenish, surely no firework.

But that wasn't all. There was something else just beneath the cloud; something hard and solid, spinning and falling out of sight, trailing more smoke behind it.

"Duuuuuude…" Soos commentated.

"What was…?" Mabel frowned.

The shape reappeared, this time bigger and nearer, speeding toward them through the trees. 'Through' the trees in the most literal sense; the trunks and branches were cut and smashed aside before it. Now it seemed to realize its fault, and increased in altitude, silhouetting briefly but clearly against the crisp blue sky.

 _Was that an alien spaceship?_

It was a bit bigger than your average fighter jet, all dirty and encrusted in roots, vines, and plants, as if a giant had used a house-sized shovel to scoop up a mound of dirt, and there just happened to be a flying saucer buried in there.

"Duuuuuuuuuude!" Soos elaborated.

Mabel wasn't really sure what to do. It was coming right for them, and, (judging by what it did to the trees,) it would probably level the house when it hit in just a few seconds… But Stan and Ford and Melody were in the house! She had to warn them!

Soos turned and rushed back into the house to do just that. "DUUUUUUUUUUUUUUDE!" He blared.

But Mabel's brain had, unbidden, produced a single dark thought. _If they're inside, they will die. I only have time to save myself…_ So instead of crying out or ducking indoors, she dived for Waddles, snatched him up in both arms during her summersault, and came up running.

 _You monster._ She told herself. _Saving yourself when you should have saved them… How dare you?_

Fortunately for the family and her conscience, the incoming ship didn't hit the house. By now it had swerved rightwards and upwards; no longer aiming for them. Now it was headed for the yard. Now it wobbled and changed course again; not even aiming for the yard. Now it was going to pass by the property entirely, and land in the forest…

Mabel's eyes followed it as it passed almost directly overhead. She saw the smoke billowing from its side. She saw the cracks spreading through its weakened hull. She felt the field of force rippling from its intact engines, she felt the heat radiating from its wrecked engines. She _would_ have felt the intense and deadly ionizing radiation spilling from its burst reactor, but humans can't feel such things.

Half a second later, the tip of its wing clipped the question mark off the weathervane.

Two seconds later, it passed out of sight into the trees.

A second after that, the ear-splitting sound of impact.

Mabel heard it bounce and tumble and smash, end-over-end and destructively, in much the same manner as a square wheel. Above the point where it had disappeared, she saw the tops of tall trees sway, topple, and shake.

In moments the landscape was silent again, and Mabel was left staring in awe at the damaged tree line, wondering what exactly she'd just witnessed.

 _What? Where? Why? Who?_

 _ALIENS?_

Waddles struggled in her arms, so she let him down, and began to feel through her pockets for tools. She didn't really have any proper rescue equipment… Just some ribbons and a curiously pencil-shaped twig. If the aliens were trapped inside or in need of medical attention, she wouldn't really be able to help them…

 _But were they beyond helping?_ She wondered (another unwelcome dark thought). _That ship hit pretty hard, and it was more likely than not that everything and everyone inside was killed. Smashed or burned alive._

 _Maybe…_

 _NO! NO! They can't be dead! ROBBIE'S WRONG! THEY CAN'T!_

She turned and began to sprint back for the house. Whatever was in there, it would have to wait 5 minutes, just 5 more minutes… Long enough for her to get proper help…

She opened the Shack's door to enter, just as Soos and the Stans opened it to exit.

"What's going on?" Stan stammered, almost tripping over Mabel. "What was that noise, some of us need our sleep!"

"It's 3:00 in the afternoon, Stan!" Ford frowned.

"DUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUE!" Soos explained.

"Guys!" Mabel pointed toward the trees. "It'saspaceshiporsomething andtheremightbepeopleinside andwe'vegottahelpthem andwelcomethemtoourworld andtakethemtoourleader andgivethemchocolatemilk!"

"Oh… OH!" Ford followed her pointing finger. He saw nothing in the trees, but was nonetheless fascinated. "Fascinating." He assessed. "Are you sure it's aliens…?"

"Well it was a big flying-saucer-shaped flying saucer!" Mabel explained. "So I think it was a flying saucer!"

"Well… Yes of course… But… But what did it look like?" Ford interrogated her. "Was it circular? Triangular? Teardrop-shaped? Manned or unmanned? Damaged…? How big was it?"

"Uh… Like, a house-sized circle? And it was all dirty…? I don't know! But it was all on fire and stuff! We've gotta go!" She grabbed Ford by his second pinkie and began to drag him toward the trees. "It crashed and stuff and you've gotta come help!"

"Wait, _fire_ …? Hold on! Hold on!" Ford pulled Mabel to a stop, and put out a hand to halt Stan as well. Then he reached way down deep into his trench coat, and pulled out a Geiger counter. "It could be nuclear, so we've got to be incredibly careful while approaching…" When Ford pointed the counter toward the trees, it began clicking loudly and wildly. He glanced at the readout. "It could be… HOLY MOSES, WHAT THE HECK?! Okay, stay back! EVERYBODY STAY BACK! Okay… Oh my I don't even… I don't… Okay. Think. Think Ford! Think…" He rubbed his temples. "Uh… Uh… Okay. Okay I've got it. Soos!" He turned to the larger man, and pressed a few coins of Aztec gold into his fat fist. "I need you to take Melody, Mabel, the pig, heck the _goat_ , and everyone else on the property, load them up in our RV, and take them back down to town. Get them all set up, get a room at the motel or something, take them out for pancakes, I don't care, but don't. Bring. Them. Back. Here. Okay?"

Soos nodded solemnly. "I. Am. That. Hero."

"WHAT? Great Uncle Ford!" Mabel gasped incredulously. "Why can't I—"

"This entire area is soaking up Gamma rays!" Ford shushed her. "If you get much closer than this, I _don't_ want to be liable for your cells getting ionized from the inside out! _Nobody's_ getting closer than this, and everybody non-essential is getting much _farther_!"

"But—"

"No buts! Stan!" He turned to his brother. "I need you to call the Mayor's office, and get him to cordon off the road to town. _Nobody_ up here, _especially_ not tourists, until we do something about the radiation. _Then_ call Daniel Corduroy, and have him get his logging crew up here with excavators. We need to _find_ this thing, get it _buried_ , and QUICKLY. Call McGucket too, and tell him it's the 'N-word'; he'll know what to do. Then call the Northwests, and mooch a favor out of them somehow. Get them to bribe somebody in the FBI to…"

"Yeah, uh…" Stan shook his head. "That's a lot of points to remember, and a lot of phone numbers I don't know."

Ford bit his tongue. "Right." He thought for a moment more. "Okay then, I'll make the calls. _You_ go down into my old lab, grab the hazmat suits, shovels, a crowbar, a plasma cutter, two semi-automatic ray guns, and my magnet gun. Also see if you can find the hitch and tow cables for Soos' truck… And… And some worklights for tonight… And… Oh dear, what else…? We'll need showers…"

"Sheesh, slow down Poindexter. That's enough for the old noggin' to remember at one time…" Stan nodded, already on his way.

"Okay… Okay…" Ford turned back to the wreck, and began to mutter out loud. "Okay. It's gonna be alright. Depending on how fast we get it buried, the house can probably be sterilized and safe for human habitation within a few weeks… That area of forest will be a different matter. Once I get the phone calls out, nobody will dare get nearby except gnomes, and there's nothing I can do about _them_ … Can only pray it doesn't get into the groundwater… Everybody's getting mobilized, I just have to make a few calls… Just a few calls… What am I forgetting? What am I forgetting?!"

 _Aliens, aliens… Why would there be aliens? The whole world to land in, why our yard? No activity for thousands of years, why now?_ He savagely interrogated his memory. _Mabel described a ship a lot like one of the shuttles from Crash Site Omega. And did she say 'dirty'? So it must have come from on-planet, instead of from outer space… But everything at CSO is dead, so wha-_

Something clicked.

"MASON!" He suddenly cried, and began to sprint across the yard in the direction of the trees. "DEAR GOD IN HEAVEN AND ALL THE SAINTS! WENDY! MASON! **KIDS, CAN YOU HEAR ME**?!"

* * *

Mabel had another dark thought.

* * *

As many people have been so kind as to point out over the years, Dipper wasn't a particularly strong individual. To his memory, he'd never won a physical contest in his life, nor lifted more than about 40 pounds, nor grown more than 5 chest hairs.

At this particular moment, he was feeling that weakness more than ever. His head pounded and his inner ears sloshed and the smoke stung his eyes and lungs and he felt as if baked alive in his armor as the eerie blue flames poured from the ship's wreckage. His arms and legs still ached from the flight, and the multitude of cuts, scrapes, bruises and injures from throughout the week were beginning to cry out, rubbing and cracking in the heat and demanding his attention. He could barely breathe, he could scarcely see, and his ears were no help either. In this state, walking forward in full armor was chore enough.

But he also had another person, half again his size and also fully armored, draped across his shoulders. One arm was hooked around her arm, the other around her leg.

Say what you will about his body, but his will was still his own.

His will forgot all else, and it ordered his leg 'step', and it stepped. And it told his other leg 'step' and it stepped. So did he move forward, boot-print by crooked boot-print, and he closed his eyes and he focused and somehow it worked. Slowly and dogmatically he came out from underneath the curved hull, up out of the trench and down the other side of the berm. About then he bumped into a tree with his eyes closed, which event he took as a sign that he'd escaped the worst of it.

But he could still feel the heat, smell the smoke, and hear the flames, so he forced his legs to keep on moving. Subconsciously he turned them about to point downhill, and he increased his snail's pace just slightly.

Minutes later, perhaps longer, perhaps shorter, he stumbled, and managed to catch himself. If he hadn't, he didn't believe he would have been able to stand up again.

Minutes later, perhaps longer, perhaps shorter, his feet began to feel strangely cold and slippery. He finally dared to open his eyes, and a welcome sight partially emerged from the blur: that of a slow stream winding through the forest. Water… His brain equated it with safety.

He set Wendy down as gently as he could on the bank. It wasn't very gently, and the motion tipped him over entirely. He crawled out from underneath her, and sat up… Good. Now he could actually help. He pushed his glove up between her helmet and her shoulder pads, and put a finger on her throat. Faintly through the material, he could feel a steady heartbeat.

 _Yes!_

Now he pressed his gauntlet up to her face in front of her mouth. Very faintly, he could see mist forming on the smooth surface.

 _She was breathing!_

 _Yes!_

 _YES!_

 _They were both alive… They were both safe!_

Relived, he began to rack his brain for how to treat unconscious people. You were supposed to get their legs up higher than their heart… Right? Yeah, that's it; their thinkers need more blood… He grabbed her ankle in one hand, her wrist in the other, and turned her around on the bank to get her head pointed downhill. Now… He thought he remembered you were supposed to remove any clothing or stuff that could restrict breathing. Like in _Pirates of the Caribbean_ , right?

He began to unbuckle her armor, piece by piece. The helmet squeezed past her ears. The chainsaw chaps unbuckled and fell aside. The shoulder pads came undone and were removed. The gauntlets slipped off like gloves. The arm guards followed the gauntlets and the leggings followed the boots. Everything went into the stream; too shallow and slow to carry them away. The flannel jacket he left in place; seemed only decent.

 _What now?_

 _Since she was breathing, that means she'd be fine in a little bit, and you didn't need CPR… Right?_

 _Well, it couldn't hurt._

He knelt down by her head, and began to pump on her chest. It might be doing something, it might not. Maybe the stimulus would wake her up.

The seconds ticked by as he pumped. He wasn't sure how fast you were supposed to do it. _Does it even matter how fast you do it?_ He wondered. _Why would it matter? How does CPR even work? When am I supposed to kiss her? Wait, no, I mean breath in her mouth. Wait, no, I mean… Whatever it's called. No, I ain't gonna kiss her._

The seconds kept ticking by, and Wendy's condition wasn't changing.

But Dipper didn't keep pumping forever, because a noise distracted him from behind.

He glanced over his shoulder, and jumped. He tried to stand up as fast as he could, but was still a little tired and dizzy from the crash, and so ended up just staggering a little as he levered himself upright. "Ugh…!" He mumbled, in weary, grim despair. "You again…"

Of course they weren't safe.

Why would they be safe? How could that have ever been an expectation? So much had happened today: the argument with Robbie, the deer-bots, the swarming bugs, the drilling worms, the alien ghosts, the rocket birds, the heart-racing chase, the ship's takeoff, the ship's crash… So much, so long… Of course it wasn't over now… How could it be over?

Dipper wished he had the magnet gun, but he'd left it back in the ship, so he couldn't leave Wendy to go back for it now… But Wendy's axe was lying in the stream where he'd tossed it. He knelt to pick it up, and whispered in her direction. "Sorry. Just gotta borrow this for a minute…"

With this utterly insufficient weapon in hand, he stood between Wendy and the enemy, and took the best fighting stance he could muster.

But the giant robotic cat just stood there, about 5 meters upstream, and looked at him.

She didn't attack, she didn't charge. She didn't even seem interested in fighting.

In fact, she was looking even worse than Dipper felt. Her left front leg was bent strangely and held against her chest, while the tank tread on her right rear foot was dented and refused to spin. Her mouth was scared and blackened terribly, with several saws crooked and one missing entirely. A piece of splintered wood (of all things) was wedged into a joint her steel shoulder, evidently having been pounded into place during the crash. And her entire underbelly was blackened, bent, and flickering with blue flames.

"Uhh…" Dipper said. "Listen… I know you can't hear me, seeing as how you don't have ears… But I'll give you a minute if you'll give me a minute… Just a little respite…"

Keeping a careful eye on the creature, he took a knee in the water.

The robot lion seemed to agree, as she more or less collapsed into the liquid. Steam rose and hissed all around her burning plates. A sheen of leaked oil flowed around the rocks and past Dipper's knees.

He blinked and nodded. "Yeah... Feel ya."

Now he knelt further down, and let the water clean him too. It soaked past his armor and his clothes, it cleaned his injuries and quenched his burns. It hurt, but this was the good kind of hurt. The kind that felt like it could heal… He cupped some in his hands and splashed his face. It ran off grey with ash.

So they both sat there for a minute or so, letting the water ebb and flow around them, trying to find a peace in the calm before the coming storm.

Finally, Dipper fancied his head was completely clear of the headache from the crash, and a few deep breaths prepared his system for what was next to come. From his kneeling pose, he looked back up at the robot lion, and she looked back at him.

He took note of the serious damage all around her mouth and saws, then glanced back up the hill and saw the ship in the distance, still smoldering and smoking. And he remembered the explosion in the port-side wing. "It was you." He broke the silence. "You clung to the ship, through all that flight… And all the while you were drilling into the engines… The crash was all you… Wasn't it?"

She didn't reply, of course.

"Well." Dipper sighed. "I… I guess I respect that. That's… Grit. I guess. You done good. You brought us down. Heck… You even took out Wendy… Right now she must look pretty dead to you… Meaning you must think you've half-won. But she'll be fine... She'll be fine."

The robot still just stared, in that soulless, empty way that animals always do.

"You… You know what?" Dipper asserted, after a brief silence. "I… I GET it. I GET it. I mean that, I get it. I get why you do what you do. I get why it means so much to you, and I know why you'll never stop until we're dead.

"And I'm SORRY. There, I said it: I'm sorry. I'm sorry we accidentally stole your son. I'm sorry we stuck you with that tracking device when you tried to come back for him. And I'm SORRY we attacked you, and I'm SORRY we shot you. I'm SORRY we invaded your territory, and tricked you time and time again. And I'm SORRY we killed your entire pack when we took off in that ship… I…"

She still stared.

"And I wish I could say we never meant you any harm, but that would be a lie because we ALL knew it would end like this: end in xenocide. Before we even started out, we agreed to destroy you if you turned out dangerous. And now that day is here, and we've got the Power Control Coupling for the big ship. We're gonna use it to fire up its reactor, and smash your entire little world, with all you beasts inside it.

"It… It was inevitable; it was even responsible! Because if not us, then who? Most likely somebody who'd kill you anyway. Or maybe somebody who'd weaponize you? Captivate you, domesticate you, plug you into machines that turn you into living factories? With… With your kind among our kind, both of us would suffer…

"It… It was! IT WAS US OR YOU! And you're just animals, which means it's not murder, it's not cruel, it isn't even _wrong_! It was the _right_ thing to do, and for that I'm SORRY! I'm SORRY your extinction was the order we gave… The order we followed… I'm sorry."

The aperture over her eye blinked at him.

"…I never once hated you." He said. "I've hated enemies before… But I never hated you. Because I get it."

It seemed to understand.

"Now, I don't know if you hate me, or if we just… If we just know we have to kill each other. But if you get my body language here, could you PLEASE just leave it be today? We're both tired and hurt. Just turn around and walk away. I don't want to kill you, but… But a girl's laying behind me, and it just wouldn't be fair for you to get the drop on us when she's helpless…

"And… And she's my very best friend in all the world, and… She means more to me than you could ever understand, and… And we've had a _really_ long day and we were _so happy_ that we'd finally _won_ … That we'd _escaped_ … And… Everything was going so good… And next time she's awake, I think I'm gonna ask her on a date… And… And it'll be my very first good date…

"So… _So because of all that_ , I won't let you get even one step closer to her. Save yourself by coming back another day… Please. I'll have to kill you, and I don't want to."

It seemed almost like she considered the offer for a minute. And then her back shuddered, and with a groan of stressed metal and worn gears, she struggled back to her feet. Her antennae retracted and her head lowered as she took a battle stance.

Dipper sighed. "You know what? I still get it." His voice lowered. "I totally get it. I… I guess I woulda done the same thing…" Using Wendy's axe like an old man would a walking Stick, Dipper hoisted himself back upright. With his other hand, he unbuckled the chainsaw chaps from his arms, and held them like some kind of whip.

So prepared with the very best of the very little he had on hand, he turned to face the beast.

Her one red eye stared back into his, and her saws slowly extended.

"We don't have to do this." Dipper offered one last time. "Go home. Lick your wounds, take a nap, do whatever it is robots do when you're looking like crap. Just _escape_ … Just like _we_ were trying to do with that ship. Forget us…"

She limped a step towards him.

Not to be outdone, Dipper took a step forward as well, keeping himself directly between the machine and Wendy's prone form. "That… That was the last one!" He commanded her, and he felt his voice rising to the challenge. "That was the very last! If you take one more step, you _dumb_ and _heartless_ animal, just one more…! _I swear that I will murder you dead where you stand!_ "

She understood.

And her will told her foot 'step', and it stepped.

* * *

Minutes later, perhaps more, perhaps less, a bright flash of blue light woke Wendy up.

As her eyes fluttered open, the first thing that drew her attention was the pain in her head. It screamed at her as she moved, throbbing and pounding with her heartbeat. She sat up and rolled over sorely, allowing her eyes to land on a narrow, shallow creek. Oh good, water… She felt thirsty… And sick… Really sick. The motion of rolling over caused her head to spin, and her stomach couldn't take anymore. Before she could take a drink, she keeled over and puked in the stream.

 _Ugh…_

 _Gross…_

 _Wait, why does my puke have blood in it? That's not a good sign._

Wait…

It wasn't the puke. The creek itself had blood in it. And a spreading slick of thick, black oil mixed with the red.

Her eyes followed the flow upstream, and there they landed on an enormous, dark shape. The body of the robot lion. She was lying just about a few meters from where Wendy had been sleeping.

And she was utterly dead.

Wendy shakily stood to her feet, and took a step toward the machine. And that was when she noticed another, much smaller shape, reclining in the water against the beast's metal belly.

" _She cheated…_ " Dipper's tiny voice whispered.

Now Wendy could see her friend's entire body, and she froze, shocked. In an instant, she took in everything: The blood at the bottom of a crater in his helmet. The slashes in his belly beneath the shreds of his armor. The punctures in his chest. His broken leg. His missing arm.

"DUDE!" She rushed up to him and he tipped over into her arms. Trying to keep him still, she stripped off her jacket and undershirt, and began to tear both into strips. _Which bleeding to plug first? There was too much… Maybe his stomach? That seemed reasonable, right?_ "Dude, hang in there man, I… You're not gonna…!" She realized she was lying. "You CAN'T die! You can't!"

"…Wendy…" He wheezed.

"Come on, man! Come on! Stay with me!" She slapped him on the cheek.

"I… I love you…"

"YEAH, NO KIDDING, REALLY?! Come on! You've gotta…! Dipper! Dipper, are you listening?! You gotta pull through! Listen to me! _I love you too! You gotta fight!_ "

Fight he did, this one last time. Down to the furthest reaches of his mind, he struggled and raged at the encroaching darkness. Trying to force back at its overbearing advance, trying to strike at it, screaming at it, pleading with it, telling it a tale of everything he'd ever wanted to do but hadn't done. The things he'd wanted to apologize for, the promises he'd wanted to keep, the mysteries he would have solved, the good he would have done, the lives he would have saved, the family he would have made, the adventures he would have…

He had had such dreams!

The darkness carelessly shrugged aside his protests. All the hope he once had cherished, he saw crushed and strangled before it, torn asunder and scattered like dust in the wind.

In the final dying light, he thought he heard Wendy's voice calling out.

" _Hang in there man!_ " She was telling him. " _You're gonna pull through one way or another! I know it! I PROMISE YOU LIFE!_ "

But her words were just words.

And death does not wait for words.


	19. The Worst of Times

An honest-to-goodness alien spaceship came careening out of the sky, directly toward the town. At the last possible second, it pulled up and curved away, close enough that the people on the streets could feel the pull of its gravity drive. Then it swerved unstably side to side through the sky, as its pilot attempted to get bearings. Soon it seemed to pick a direction, and so tilted on one end and raced off toward the hills, slicing off a couple treetops as it went. When it passed over the Mystery Shack, it took a sudden drop in altitude, hovered into something resembling a standstill, bumped once into the side of the building, and settled to the ground upside-down.

Its engines wined tiredly as it rolled itself back right-side-up, and finally came to a rest right between Soos' truck and the Stans' RV, like just another car in the parking lot.

The airlock momentarily opened and two sore but triumphant teenagers blinked in the light.

"Ugh…" Dipper dropped the alien instruction manual and rubbed his arms with a groan. "Ow…"

"Bro…" Wendy staggered slightly and shook her head, her inner ear still spinning from the flight's antics. She gripped her fingers around the upper rim of the airlock, and hoisted herself out before extending a hand down to Dipper. "That was… Bleh…"

"Yeah… Bleh…" Dipper took her hand, and let himself be lifted up.

"Let's… Uh…" Wendy set him down beside her and gave him a friendly slap on the back. "Yeah… Let's not… Not do that again."

They both dropped down off the vehicle's rim, limped over to the Mystery Shack porch, and plopped themselves down on the sofa, where they could massage and stretch their sore bodies in relative peace.

After about 5 minutes of sitting there groaning, Wendy reached an arm way over in the direction of the cooler, and came back with a pair of ice cream sandwiches. One she tossed to Dipper, the other she unwrapped herself. The cool milky goodness reminded them how hot they were, and they began to unbuckle and loosen their armor. Wendy took a moment to admire all the scratches and dents she'd accumulated on her shoulder pads, and Dipper took a moment to subtly readjust his pants for reasons we won't go into. Finally he spoke up again. "Yeah… And if we _do_ do that again… I'll drive."

"What? _No_ …" She smirked sharply at him. "That was _fun_ , man… I mean… I mean, that wasn't bad, was it?"

A smile twitched at the corner of his mouth. "…You drive spaceships about as well as you drive cars."

"Yeah, well…" She struggled for a retort. "Well… You read Alien-ese about as well as you read Spanish. 'That's the reactor ignition' you said. 'push that button' you said. 'try those switches over there' you said… But was it any of those?"

"No… No, we made it out by dumb luck…"

"Yeah…"

"Ugh… Sorry."

She blinked. "Yeah… Hey, you know what, I'm sorry too. I totally forgot all about the rotation controls there during takeoff. And I guess I am a pretty bad pilot all-in-all…"

"Ahh… It's fine… It's just barf. It washes out…"

"Ha ha… Ooooh." She took another bite of ice cream. "That's gross dude."

"Breaking news! Dipper is gross!" A new voice suddenly joined the conversation, its owner leaping out of the door to land in a smug summersault before them. With a big metal smile and a voice like a TV announcer, she held her own ice cream sandwich like a microphone. She was talking again by the time the screen door banged shut behind her. "Stay tuned next time for these and other shocking revelations, such as: _grass is green_!"

"Ugh! Mabel!" Dipper frowned.

"What is UP, Dippingsauce?! Say, when did you guys get back?"

"Like… Just now?" Wendy shrugged.

"Mabel!" Dipper hissed at a volume he thought was quiet. "Go. A. Way. You were ruining the… Ermmmph…?" He nodded toward Wendy in a way he thought was discreet.

"Oh, what?" Mabel laughed. "Did I ruin the moment? I thought you were talking about how gross you were! Well excuse _ME_ for mussing up the moment, you adorable lovebirds!"

"I…! Guh! Mabel! Go away!"

"Maybe I will, but I'll never be faaaar... Ooooh-weeEEEEE-Oooooh...!" She made a mysterious alien noise.

"Say…" Wendy interrupted, eager as anyone to steer the girl toward alternative conversation topics. "What have _you_ been doing all day, dude?"

"Oh, ME?" Mabel smiled. "Well, I… I! I have been thinking and braining and computing, and I think I've finally found a way for you guys to solve your little adventure. A big, grand, happy solution! A way that doesn't involve killing all the alien robots! I way where people are still safe, but also nothing has to be extinct!"

"Oh yeah?" Dipper glanced at her, intrigued. "And what would this big, grand, happy solution be?"

"Nuh-UH! I can't tell you! It's a super secrety secret that only Soos and Robbie are allowed to—SWEET MOTER OF CINNAMON IS THAT A UFO?!"

"Uh…" Dipper glanced over his shoulder. "That? No, of _course_ not." He shook his head and took another bite of ice cream. "'UFO' stands for 'Unidentified Flying Object.' Whereas _that_ machine is _perfectly_ identified. It is a nuclear-powered sub-light cargo shuttle manufactured on Trilazzxx Beta, as exploratory equipment for Colonial Vessel 4.16'\\. An extraterrestrial spacecraft. Not a UFO."

"OH MY GEEEEEEEE…! Soos, get out here! Dipper and Wendy got us a UFO!"

Soos appeared at the door with a heaping mouthful of grass. "DUDE!" He gasped some down his windpipe, and spent the next several seconds coughing it back up as he ran after Mabel toward the vehicle. "Dude it's a spaceship! Duuuuude!"

"Duuuuuuude!"

"Duuuuuuuuude!"

"DUUUUUUUUUUUDE!"

Mabel and Soos clambered up the side and disappeared down the airlock.

"…And we're _sure_ that thing is harmless, right?" Dipper blinked.

"At _this_ point? Yes. And I also took the keys." Wendy reached into her pocket and pulled out something like a cross between a sonic screwdriver and a feather duster. "I think these are the keys, at least…"

"Ha ha… Good move…"

"Yeah…"

They were silent for a few minutes more.

Dipper took a deep breath.

Wendy took a deep breath.

" _So…_ " He began.

" _So…_ " She began at the exact same time. This seemed to cause some form of mutual interruption, and caused them to both stop talking.

"Go ahead."

"No, you go ahead."

"Umm, okay…" She continued. "So…" She let the word hang in the air for a minute, unsure of how to follow up on it. "So… We started a conversation earlier that we never got to finish."

"Oh…" Dipper stammered. "Oh yeah. Uh… We did, huh? Yeah…"

"About how this adventure might very well be our last. About how if we're not careful, we might never hang out again. About how I'll miss you and you'll miss me and neither of us really want that to happen and, like, what should we do about that…?"

"Uh… Uh… Yeah…"

"Hmm." Wendy grunted.

And then they fell silent again.

Finally Dipper opened his mouth. Then he closed it, cleared his throat, and tried again. "Wendy, uh… I was wondering if tomorrow… Uh… If… Uh…"

"What?"

"Uh…" A spell of dizzy itchiness seized him about that time, and it got just a little too much to bear. "Uh…"

"What?" She repeated.

"Umm… Never mind."

"No no no no!" She insisted. "You started a conversation earlier, and now you better finish it. And you just started a sentence just now, so you darn better finish that too. If you really do have something you want to say, you darn better man up and speak up, or who knows; one of us could die in the meantime. You never know when you'll never have another chance, so take it now."

"UH!" He squirmed nervously. "No, it's not… Never mind. I changed my mind."

"Changed your mind…? Really?"

"Uh…" Dipper took a breath, set his jaw, and finally said. "Okay." Then he looked her in the eye and, with a truly monumental effort of courage, opened his mouth and said. "Wendy… Do you want to go on a date with me tomorrow?"

Her mouth slowly spread into a little smile as she leaned back and took another bite of her ice cream sandwich. Then she said. "I do."

 _Then…!_

Then… That was…

That was it… Wasn't it?

That night Wendy came home tired, happy, and strangely optimistic… Everything seemed pretty good. Pretty chill.

Everything wasn't pretty good.

When she crawled into bed, turned out the lights and drifted off to sleep, something was wrong… It wasn't a happy sleep. A darkness seemed to encroach upon her mind, and forced upon it a new vision; a new vision, filled with darkness.

Within this evil nightmare, the day seemed to run the same way that she remembered. Just the way it was supposed to… Yes, everything was exactly the same… Until…

Until everything went wrong.

The ship exploded. Little bits and pieces flew from its port-side wing, as it tumbled for the ground. The controls fought back against her, the ground came much too fast, she missed the yard entirely, and crashed in the forest.

The ship tumbled end over end, breaking into pieces, littering the landscape with debris. Fires started. Radiation cooked the area at the atomic level. Ford evacuated people for their own protection. When he found Wendy, he had her strip to her underwear before he blasted her with the hose, trying his best to decontaminate her scarred skin.

But Ford had been irradiated himself; an even higher dosage than she. He was sick within hours, and nobody had seen much of him since. They say he'd retreated to the solitude of his lab, where he spent the hours and days doing who-knows-what.

Soos had to move his family out of the Shack. And as they sat together in a lonely motel room, he realized that there was so much heartbreak and brokenness and chaos roaming about that he couldn't fix it. Even the greatest handyman in the world couldn't fix it. He knew it, and the knowledge tore him up inside.

Melody had her hands full enough just trying to keep the hotel room in shape.

Abuelita found herself without her recliner for the first time in decades. The futon was a pretty big step down.

Stan found himself as a caretaker of sorts. He kept them fed and sheltered, much as he was able, kept them together and stable to the greatest of his ability. The same man who had brought them all together as Mr. Mystery now brought them together as their Grunkle. And what a Grunkle he was; but even _he_ couldn't reach Mabel.

Mabel.

As for her, there were no words for what she felt. It seemed that something inside her had suddenly snapped, and she'd retreated into her shell. Nothing seemed to be able to pierce through.

And Dipper…

 ** _Dipper was dead!_**

* * *

Wendy awoke with a sudden gasp, and found herself sitting up in bed, the sheets hot and sticky against her skin, her eyes glued on the moon out the window, her breath coming ragged and heavy.

What a nightmare that had been! It was so vivid! Almost as vivid as reality! When she tried to remember it, it didn't elusively fade like dreams usually do; she could recall it so clearly… The image of Dipper's bloody, broken body still hovered before her eyes, the broken lives and dreams, the sickness, the pain. She could see it almost as clearly… As… Reality…

But… Wait… Reality…?

Reality was the happy landing… The ice cream… The smiles… The awkward little invitation…

Right?

What was…?

What…

 _Which was the dream?!_

Wendy's eyes slowly strayed around her room, searching in dread for the clues which would tell her.

She saw the 4 journals lying open on her desk; three red with the symbol of a hand, and one blue with the symbol of the tree.

She saw the pitcher lying next to her bed, so she had a place to barf if she again felt sick in the night.

She felt the light cotton shirt across her chest, the only thing she could wear that didn't hurt so bad when it rubbed on her radiation burns.

She saw the little container on her nightstand, with some long, cumbersome scientific label: the pills Ford had given her to flush the latent Uranium from her body.

She saw her calendar, with its extra marks telling her she'd been bedridden 4 days now.

She saw the 'get well soon' cards her friends had made, lying in a messy little stack.

She saw last night's dinner sitting where dad had left it on the foot of her bed; stone cold and untouched…

And on the windowsill directly in front of her, she saw a shattered, oil-stained axe; the axe Dipper had used to defend her to his dying breath.

Wendy's mind, now fully awake, began to put the grim picture together: the happy ending was the dream. Instead of the nightmare, it was the _good_ day that faded quickly from her consciousness, leaving nothing to recall it by except a vague, groundlessly hopeful feeling. The nightmare had taken its place in her memory.

And now, Wendy was struck with a sudden and powerful feeling of Deja-Vu: _she'd been having the same dream for the past 4 nights._ Each time, she vaguely recalled the relief, the peace, the life and love… Everything always seemed pretty chill… Then each time, she fell asleep. And the dream within a dream was a nightmare, and when she woke from both she beheld that the nightmare was true. Somehow, inexplicably, it had always been true…

 _Reality was the nightmare…_

 _Bill would have been tickled pink._

Wendy would suffer no more sleep tonight. Instead she eased herself out of bed, dragging the quilt behind her for warmth. Then she flipped on the lamp above her desk, and watched the weathered pages of the journals appear before her in the yellowish light. Her butt landed on the chair, and her eyes landed on the pages, and there both stayed as the small hours ticked by.

 _This wasn't right._ She told herself. _It wasn't this way, and it won't be this way. I don't know how it could ever be fixed, but there IS a way, and I WILL find it._ As she turned another page, she repeated this promise to herself a second time, and she believed it. She knew it.

 _Wherever you are, Dipper… Listen to me, and don't you give up hope. Things look bad right now but somehow, somewhere, sometime, I'm coming for you. I will save you._

 _You had honor and grit beyond your years, Dipper. You were the one who taught me determination. You were the one who taught me heroism. Whatever it is I need to do, I learned it from you. If it had been me dead out there, you would have done the same and more for me, with neither hesitation nor doubt. And you wouldn't have let depression or despair or a little Acute Radiation Syndrome stand in your way._

 _Listen to me Dipper, and hold fast._

 _I won't be long._

 _I promise you life._

* * *

"Learn to think dark thoughts, my girl."

These were the words Robbie had given her 4 days ago, when he'd scorned her spirit and left her. These words had been given to her 23 minutes before Dipper died.

She shouldn't logically have known of his demise on such short notice. She'd been in the van at the time, on the way to the motel, complaining and talking and joking with Soos and Melody… Then… She'd suddenly and inexplicably felt a piece of her soul shatter to pieces. Maybe it was just the minutes ticking by when nobody spoke or called. Maybe she'd suddenly put it all together: how the only place a _dirty_ UFO could have come from is on-planet. How the only people who were currently investigating aliens (and thus the only ones who would ever find, fly, and try to land such a craft) were Dipper and Wendy. Maybe Robbie's words had set off a chain reaction of unreasonable, escalating paranoia.

It was probably the work of some kind of latent twin ESP.

It didn't matter how she'd known.

She just had.

And thus did the civil war begin.

It was the spark that set the two sides of Mabel's soul afire in hatred against the other. They donned their armor, they took up weapons, and they charged headlong into war on the surface of her mind.

The light half of her brain cried foul at the claims of the darkness; it said that Dipper wasn't dead at all. "It's all right!" The light half said. "What do you mean he's _dead_? Of course he's all right! He's always been all right! He's always been there for you, you've always been there for him, and nothing in the universe can stand between! That's the way it's always been, and that's the way it will always be! Your love for him conquers all! And even if he is dead; so what? Together, you've conquered things more powerful than death before, and you will conquer them again! You've battled across space and time, you've grappling-hooked your way through demons and robots! So long as the name 'Pines' still dances in the sunny fields of Gravity Falls, your hope and your love will endure! Stand up and laugh at cruel fate, Mabel! The others need your strength!"

"Of course he's dead." The dark side retorted. "He went off alone with Wendy; he spent more and more time with her, less and less time with you, because he wanted to leave you behind! He thought you were too sweet and young and foolish for his duty, and he was _right_ … He left you because he knew you couldn't handle the grown-up world! The real world… It is dark and twisted and dangerous, filled with evil men, just like Robbie told you! Dipper left you for this world, and his foray into its clutches destroyed him. He should have stayed with you, growing young and stupid by your side, but he _didn't_ … And now what will _you_ do, you glittery, girly little fart? You will sit down and you will cry, because bringing him back means following him into that grim world, and you are too cowardly for the task!"

Yes, it was true: only half of the mind was occupied by Mabel's old self… The other half was something terrible and ugly and foreign… Some part of herself she'd either never noticed or always tried to repress. _Where did this other half come from? How did it get into my brain? Why are you here? Why won't you leave me alone? Help, somebody help! It's hurting me!_

No matter how the fires raged on that battleground, the darkness would not be subdued.

But that whole evening, the light side would not be subdued either. It had been holding aloft that one and singular hope: the hope and that this was all just a weird onset of paranoia. But… But what kind of person was paranoid enough to instantly become certain of a dark truth she couldn't have known? Even Dipper hadn't been _that_ bad. Nobody was that paranoid, certainly not sweet, optimistic little Mabel… Certainly not sweet, optimistic, innocent, supportive, carefree, cheery, bubbly, joyous, happy little Mabel… _Certainly not I…_

Dipper was dead; she knew it but she didn't know it, and that was the misery she had lived until 7:28 that night. And that was when Melody, the most adult-like adult present, got a call from Ford. She'd listened to the news with a steely frown for some 10 minutes, whispering questions just outside Soos and Mabel's hearing.

Then she nodded, said something to Soos, and handed the phone to Mabel.

Mabel turned away before she could see Soos' reaction, then pressed the earpiece to her head, and, in a barely steady voice, demanded of the man on the other end. "He's dead? He's dead, isn't he? Dipper's dead?"

Ford hadn't dared to hesitate; she'd waited long enough. "Yes." He'd said.

She vaguely remembered dropping the phone, then curling up in someplace cold and dark, pulling her head and limbs into her sweater, and crying. Deep inside the impenetrable inner sanctum of Sweatertown, the darkness gained ground. "I was right." It said. "You are foolish, you are stupid, you are weak, and I was right. Now you are all alone, and there is nobody to help you. Your brother is gone, your uncles are just uncles, your friends are just friends, your Soos is just a Soos, and none of them know you anymore. The Shooting Star burned so bright and beautiful in its time, but a shooting star is just a falling star, and its shine is merely its vaporization. The atmosphere has torn it apart, and now a cracked, rough, beaten, cold shell comes plummeting for the ground; an impact that will surely dash it to pieces… Poor, poor Shooting Star… At last… At long, long last, it's time for you to become something new…"

Thusly did the sweet, optimistic, innocent, supportive, carefree, cheery, bubbly, joyous, happy little Mabel slowly rot.

Robbie's words echoed over the blackened, besieged walls of Sweatertown.

 _"Learn to think dark thoughts, my girl…"_

Such thoughts had begun to ooze.

* * *

Dan tucked in his shirt and buckled his suspenders, as he glanced tiredly at the clock. Had to leave for work in 15 minutes… He supposed that was long enough to try once more to talk.

So he scooped a couple eggs and some sausage onto a plate, and carried them over to his daughter's sealed door. With one massive fist he knocked once, and waited a minute for the response that never came. She didn't want to talk. She never wanted to talk…

So he opened it anyway, and took a timid step within.

She was sitting at her desk, wrapped tightly in a quilt and little else, as seemed to be habit these past few days. Before her, arranged on the table like some kind of ritual, were all those old confounded books… What was she doing?

Whatever it was, she didn't think it warranted showing to him.

Her back was turned, and there it stayed. Her gaze was forward, and there it stayed, as she flipped page after page, slowly and methodically, scanning from book to book to book to book. Occasionally she scribbled a note or a question or an answer here or there. Sometimes she checked a little chart she'd scribbled on the wall, that seemed to be some kind of code. Sometimes she fact-checked the blue one with the red ones, or the red ones with each other.

Always she was looking. Looking for what? Dan couldn't guess. Why the sudden interest in books, when she'd never liked them even a little? Dan hadn't a clue. What strange books were these, that could promise answers among matters of life and death? Dan hesitated to speculate. What did she believe stood to gain by pouring over scribbles all through the late and early hours? It didn't make much sense to him. But somehow, such folly seemed infinitely important to her. Indeed, by the intensity of her studies it seems she believed in it… _WHY?_ He wondered again. _WHAT IS THERE TO BELIEVE? WHAT IS SHE THINKING? IS SHE HOPING? HOPING FOR WHAT? AND HOW? HOW DOES HOPE FOLLOW FROM A SITUATION LIKE THIS…?_

Well… He figured she probably knew a lot more about this than he did. Whatever she was thinking, he hoped to God that she was right.

He set her breakfast down on her bed, to replace her untouched dinner.

But before he left, he decided to try once more.

"…WENDY?"

No response, although her shoulders may have tensed just slightly.

"LOOK, I… I KNOW YOU DON'T WANT TO TALK, BUT… BUT. HMM. YEAH… UH… YOU KNOW, WHEN YOUR MOM DIED-"

"Was it your fault?" Dan saw his own daughter spin on him, wild and aggressive, lashing out like a cornered animal. And for the first time, Dan clearly saw that terrible, ungodly look in her eye. It was a look that shocked Dan, even frightened him into taking a step back, because he recognized it well. He hadn't seen that look in a long time, and he'd hoped to never see it again. That was the look he saw in the mirror, when he met times of true desperation with all he had left: his anger and his willpower. When her mom died. When her brother had hit his head on a hiking trip. When the sky was red and everyone was gone. This was a look of great import.

"I don't talk." Wendy growled. "Because I know what you're going to say, and I'm not gonna listen. You're gonna ask me why the dickens I was trying to fly an alien spaceship in the first place. Why I didn't land it properly, or why I showed enough weakness to need protection from some wimpy kid. You're gonna tell me none of this had happened if I'd have just gotten a job like a good little girl! If I'd have just forgotten the whole thing! You're gonna tell me I shouldn't have tried to do this, and now 'HEY LOOK SOMEBODY'S DEAD! HEY LOOK, NOW YOU'VE GOT ARS AND YOU SHOULDN'T BE OUT OF BED TILL YOUR BONE MARROW HEALS!' WELL I KNOW IT, DAD! I darn well know I messed up, but I'll have you know that we had our own good reasons for going out there, for fighting the fight we did, for flying that ship… We believed—No—We _knew_ that we had to! But this wasn't the way it was supposed to be! We would have lived…! And… And I don't need another lecture from you telling me how to live my life… Just… Please, just leave…"

Dan stood there for a minute, shocked to silence.

"And…" Wendy announced. "Frankly dad, today's the day. I don't think I'll find any more answers in these books, so I ain't gonna stay sitting on my butt for one hour longer. You're gonna leave for work in… What, 11 minutes? Soon as you do, there's nothing to stop me. I'm gonna get up and I'm gonna head to town. Firstly to collect some equipment I lost in the crash. Secondly to get some questions answered. Third to buy a new bike, because the robot ate my old one. Forthly to visit the Pines, and tell them the half of the story they haven't heard yet. Fifthly to just clear my head… I know Ford said to stay in bed, stay in my room, until I'm stronger; well _screw_ him. I'm going, because this is more important. And… And that's the way it is, so _there_ …"

Her gaze passed off of him, as she turned back to her books.

Dan frowned for a good long time, his brain working to process all of this. He started off angry. Then he got confused. Then he stopped being confused, and he knew what he needed to do.

He could be late for work just once.

"UH…" He finally said, as he turned for the door. "I WON'T HAVE YA WALKIN' ALL THE WAY TA TOWN IN YER HEALTH. GET YER STUFF TOGETHER, EAT YER BREAKFAST, AND I'LL MEET YA IN THE TRUCK… AND FER THE LOVE OF ALL THAT'S HOLY, PUT ON SOME PANTS! YOU'LL CATCH A DEADLY COLD…"

When she locked the front door behind her 10 minutes later, she'd dressed herself approximately as she usually did: jeans, boots, jacket. But this time, that faded cap with the pine tree seemed more prominent on her head. And she was carrying more than an axe today; the blue journal was tucked in her unbuttoned jacket.

She was dressed for this business. But she wasn't feeling it. The eggs and meat tumbled in her empty stomach like they didn't belong, and wanted out. The chill morning air bit harshly though the inside of her stuffy nose. And her knees, of all things, hurt from so many days of sitting. In every inch of her body there lurked these subtle hardships of sickness. They made her feel thin, weak, even small. As if everything in creation, right down to her very flesh, was conspiring to oppress her. As if, in so many subtle ways, fate had made her less than everybody else.

 _This must be how Dipper feels every day._ She realized.

"READY?" Her dad nodded from the cab of his truck.

She took one more deep breath.

 _Grit._

"Yep." She nodded.

"KAY."

Then she looked over and met her dad's eye.

 _Honor._

"…I'm sorry I yelled at you." She told him. "That was outta turn."

"'SOKAY."

"…You're really not mad at me?"

"…THERE'S A LOTTA THINGS I DON'T UNDERSTAND." He grunted. "BUT AS FER WHAT YER FEELING… THAT I DO GET. AND EVEN I KNOW BETTER THAN TA STAND IN THE WAY OF A CORDUROY WEARIN' THAT FACE. NOW… WHERE IS IT YA NEED TA GO?"

She stepped up into the passenger seat, and pulled the door shut behind her. "Uh… McGucket's handling the salvage from the crash, right? Weren't you driving the tow truck for the cleanup?"

"YEAH. EVERYTHING WE DIDN'T BURY I TOOK TO HIS PLACE."

"McGucket Manor then."

* * *

"Hey, make it fast up there, Pumpkin." Grunkle Stan lowered her gently off his shoulders, and gave her a reassuring pat on the shoulder. His rough, cranky old voice was the gentlest he could make it today. "Don't wanna be around here longer than we have to… Ha ha… Radiation, and, uh… Heh heh… Y'know. All that… Just get your stuff and come right back down."

In numb compliance, she walked slowly up the familiar creaking stairs, through the room lit red by the triangular window, and finally into the cramped attic space where all her stuff was…

And all _his_ stuff too… She tried not to look at it.

She stopped by a small metal box that was sitting on her bed. And she stared at it for what felt like minutes, while the mighty battle of light vs. dark raged harder than ever in her soul.

Juan was in that box.

The adorable, innocent little robot that Wendy had found in the woods at the start of all this… Mabel had been the one to keep him fed and charged and happy; who had played with him, and kept him safe from the family who would have meant him harm… Somebody mysterious had even saved him from their hands, and then entrusted him to Mabel, knowing that she still loved and cared for the cub…

Hesitantly, Mabel popped the latches on the box, and looked inside.

Juan was still in there.

He'd been in there 4 days now. No electricity. No room to move. No light. No warmth. No mommy. No love.

Very slowly and weakly he looked up at her. His red eyes were glowing almost too dim to make out, and the most he could do with his legs was wiggle them side to side, as if lacking the power output to even stand up. She could tell that he was nearly dead.

"Oh…!" She choked dryly over her words, and her sight got blurry. "Oh, I'm so sorry Juan…" She reached down with her bare hands, and curled them around his tiny chest. He was even thinner and lighter than she remembered, and his legs were covered in what felt like metal shavings. (Robot poop? Gross…)

He didn't activate his saws, even when her bare hand accidentally touched them. Maybe he didn't fear her or hate her anymore; or maybe he was just that helpless.

She rushed over to the wall outlet, sat down next to it, and held his head right up to the socket. Soon as the creature recognized what was happening, it extended its hooks and worked them into the plug. Its entire body seemed to shudder for a moment and then relax. His legs wrapped themselves comfortably around her wrist, and the claws gently plucked at her sweater. His tail wiggled in the cutest way possible, and his entire body seemed relieved, even sleepy as he nursed.

 _Oh, Juan…_

 _Such a sweet thing…_

 _…_

 _It's all his fault._

 _If you hadn't wandered into that bear trap… Your mommy wouldn't have left you for dead. And then Wendy wouldn't have found you and taken you home. And then your mommy wouldn't have come back looking for you, and hurt Dan… And then Dipper and Wendy wouldn't have gone on an adventure to find where you came from… And… And then Wendy wouldn't have flown that spaceship, Dipper wouldn't have dueled your mom… Your mom wouldn't have died, and… AND… AND!_

 _AND DIPPER WOULD STILL BE ALIVE!_

Very slowly, Mabel watched her hand reach up to settle on the top of Juan's head. _I'm just going to pet him… It's all right. I'm just petting you Juan… Don't be afraid. You need to be… Petted…_

But she didn't pet him. As if it had a mind of its own, Mabel's hand curled its fingers around the sides of Juan's head. And her other hand reached around to hold his torso steady.

 _No…_

 _No, I can't do this. It's not… It's not really his fault. He's just a baby… He… He… He doesn't deserve it! What am I thinking?! He's innocent! I love him! He's…_

 _He's guilty._

 _I hate him._

Mabel's fingers tightened. In an instant, her wrists flexed, her arms straightened, and she grunted with effort.

With all her strength, she spun Juan's head around on his body. And she held it at that terrible angle for a second, flexing with all her strength, waiting for some quiet 'click' which would indicate his tiny spine had cracked.

But his neck was made of titanium; it didn't break.

Suddenly, Mabel froze, and realized what she'd just done.

She dropped Juan on the floor with a gasp, and stood up suddenly, staggering back about 5 steps. Juan shook his sore neck and glanced up at her in an accusing way.

Mabel kept retreating until her back touched the wall. _That really happened._ She realized. She'd just tried to murder an innocent creature. She, _Mabel Pines_ , had really, truly, with all of her might, tried to end the life of an innocent, adorable baby animal, and all for no reason besides anger…

She broke down into uncontrollable tears, jerked the door open, and rushed headlong down the stairs. Stanley noticed her coming, and, guessing wrongly at the source of her distress, reached up a hand to try and stop her. "Hey, woah, woah, it's okay, Sweety! C'mere, it's—"

She blubbered something unintelligible that even _she_ didn't catch, barreled her way past her Grunkle's embrace, and sprinted for the back door.

 _Gone, gone, gone…_

 _Dipper was gone… And now Mabel must be gone too… Yes, something must have taken up residence in my brain, because I would surely never have done that… Surely not I…_

The battle in her brain raged on, just as ferociously as ever.

And the light side was getting truly desperate. _Has the darkness really won?_ It asked.

The dark side snickered at the protests of the light. _I guess we'll have to see…_ It taunted.

Beneath the battle in the brain, Mabel's legs ran and kept running, while the tears streamed down her face. Grunkle Stan may have been running after her, or he may not… It didn't really matter; she had faster legs than him anyway.

She ran and she ran.

 _I tried to kill him!_ The light side of her brain sobbed. _Dipper was the only one I could ever trust, and now I can't even trust myself!_

 _Geez, this is getting sad!_ The dark side of her brain cringed. _You weren't even strong enough to break that kid's neck! Dipper wouldhave couldhave done it better… Whatever you think you're doing, you definitely need help._

 _Where are you, Dipper?!_ Her light side cried out. _What can I even do? Where are you to tease me when I'm silly? Where are you to pick me up when I'm stupid? Where are you to put a bandaid on my soul and give me an awkward sibling hug? Dipper… I need you so BAD…_

She ran and she ran until she found herself standing all alone, in a small field of yellow grass. All around the field stooped a scraggly grove of Birch Trees, their trunks banded in sheaths of white bark as smooth as eyelids…

Mabel took a deep breath and wiped her tears, as she sank down into the grass.

 _Dipper…_ The light side of her brain pleaded. _I would do anything in the universe to get you back…_

 _Oh yeah?_ The dark side asked. _…Did you just say 'anything', Shooting Star?_

She opened her eyes.

And she saw a small stone statue.

* * *

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	20. Shattered Pieces

What should she do?

What _could_ she do?

What would _you_ do?

Mabel gasped and staggered to her feet, stepping hastily away from the statue's presence.

It may be covered in moss, chipped around the edges, and so decrepit and inert that it couldn't _possibly_ serve any more function than an everyday brick…

But nonetheless, it was perfectly and unmistakably Bill…

That same screeching, graceless lunatic… That same twisted tormenter of unwary minds… Master of nightmares… Hungry, greedy scourge of those oddest hidden corners of history… Sworn and deadly enemy of all peace, order, and goodness in this or any world… Murderer of billions of loved ones, and billions more that nobody loved… Hated by trillions, feared by trillions more…

Here. He. Sat.

On the ground, or rather _in_ the ground, half-buried, with his eye still bulging out in that goofy way it always did, that stupid hat still balanced up on his pointy upper vertice, that cocky little bowtie the only clothes he'd ever worn… And though one of his frozen, scrawny, almost cartoonish hands was still obscured beneath the dirt, the other one was extended forward as if offering a handshake… That old familiar handshake… That old familiar deal…

But… But they knew he was dead…

Right?

This must be his long-discarded body. Monument to the end of last Summer; the first time in uncounted eons he'd ever had the ability to gather more than a half-dozen molecules together in his own image… The outer layer is probably hardened stone or an alloy of some type. Beneath, if she recalled, there lay some despicable manner of flesh and godless bone, doubtlessly long-rotted and disgusting by now, just the way he would have wanted it…

Mabel could remember his horror, and his evil, and everything he'd ever done with that wretched body and that enormous power… Power that was not his own, but that people had freely given him through their faith, fear, and willing deals…

Deals like her own…

Without ever taking her eyes off the sinister dead body, Mabel knelt to the ground and tried to puke. Anything to vent the guilt, and the horror, and the awful, prevailing self-loathing she always felt when she remembered that day… For she knew… She knew everything that happened, and everything that could have happened… Was all her fault…

Because her will was weak.

Robbie's words rang through her head. _Those who outlive you will remember you for your selfishness and your many tragic mistakes and NOT for your sweetness…_

 _IT HURT…_

Somehow, in the back of her mind, she knew what she was about to do now as well. She could feel her moment of weakness and desperation as it came… She knew that wretched, despairing souls like hers were the bread and butter of every breed of devil… She knew that in her desperation to bring her brother back, her senseless brain would succumb to any far-flung temptation, subscribe to any impossible hope, do any fool thing she let it…

But… She let it anyway.

As if they had a mind of her own, she felt her legs straighten beneath her, and began stepping slowly forward. _I'm just gonna look at it._ She lied to herself. _Nothing wrong with just looking. Looking never once did anything. I can do what I want with my own eyes… I mean, this is a weird thing, right? ANYBODY would want to look at it… Right?_

But when she reached it, she felt her arm raise just slightly. _What am I doing? DON'T DO THAT!_

As if beyond her control, she saw her hand raise to the height of Bill's. _Well, I won't do it, but even if I do, it won't even do anything. He's dead. Gone. Erased. We smashed him flat out of existence, and nobody misses him, and nobody wants him back. Even if there is some fragment of him still out there in the multiverse somewhere, it wouldn't be able to sense, let alone do anything, about one tiny handshake… Right?_

 _And…_

 _And why would I shake his hand, anyway? He doesn't have any power anymore, so even if I tried to make a deal with him, he couldn't do anything to make me hold up my end, or to fulfill his end. Dipper's gone… Dipper's gone and not even Bill can fix it… Not even if he still had his power, not even if I could somehow… Not even if I gave him… Not even I promised all my… Not… No, of course not._

Her hand moved just a teeny bit forward. Less than an inch left… So very, very close…

 _TAKE EVERYTHING I LOVE JUST BRING HIM BACK._

"NO!" In her peripheral vision, she saw somebody sprint headlong out of the bushes. Before she could turn her head or even draw her hand back in shame, Grunkle Stan had tackled her off her feet and came to a stop in a clumsy roll, his niece wrapped tightly in his arms. "KID WHAT'RE YOU DOING?!" He almost screamed at her, as he staggered back to his feet, with her head clutched against his chest, and a baseball bat held out like a sword in his free hand. His eyes locked on the statue as he continued to retreat. "DON'T YOU KNOW WHAT YOU ALMOST DID?!" He yelled. "BECAUSE I SURE DON'T! HOW'D YOU FIND THAT THING ANYWAY? AND WHY HAVEN'T WE EVER SEEN IT BEFORE?! I mean… Come on kid, you can't be that dumb! You know better than to play with… Play with…"

He realized she was barely even listening. She'd gathered 2 big fistfuls of his shirt, and was clinging to them tightly, weeping her eyes out. "I… Oh… Hey, sweetie, calm down. It's okay…" He stopped walking, dropped the baseball bat, and hugged her with both arms. "It's okay. I'm… I'm not mad at you…" He realized out loud as she kept weeping. "…I… I get it… I…" A tear rolled down his own cheek. " _I remember…_ "

* * *

"What have you found?"

McGucket hadn't been expecting visitors, so having one more or less appear out of nowhere startled him significantly. He dropped his Dremel and spun around to view the entrance of his lab, his heart racing in a way unsuitable for men of his age. "EHH!" He gasped. "Ooh! Heh… Heh, heyowdy g'monrin' Ms. Corduroy. Yeh… Yeh scare't me…"

"Yeah, well." The girl took another step beyond the door, and wiped her nose before returning her hands to her pockets. "You didn't answer the doorbell."

"Ooh. Right. Musta been the… The music…" McGucket squeezed past some large toolboxes over to a wall, and tipped a large cabinet aside just long enough to reach past it and turn off the record player.

The loud, ubiquitous bluegrass that had flooded the lab faded off. In the dull silence that followed, McGucket turned back to his visitor, and removed his hat. "Eh… Eh, 'bout what happened… I… Uh… I'm really… I dunno what ta say…"

"Don't…" She coughed. "Don't say anything then."

"Eh… Uh… It's… Wull, how yeh feelin'? I heard yeh got 'bout nuked yerself…"

"I'm fine."

"Heh… Uh… Wull, it's a relief ta see ya up an' about anyhoo… I thought… You were supposed ta stay in bed or…?"

"Stuff it. I'm fine…" Wendy glanced about the lab. "So… Anyway, I heard you were the one who ended up handling salvage…"

"Uh… Yeeeeh… Yeah, I been a' tinkerin' with all them fiddlyjinks…"

"…Fill me in?"

"Oh… Okay…" McGucket led the way deeper into the dense clutter of the lab, and pointed around to various pieces and parts of alien technology lying or hanging about. "We buried most of the saucer… But I cut out onea the reactors…" He pointed to a starfish-shaped device hanging over a workbench. "The one that didn't' scuttlefunk itself, a'course… I took all the Uranium out, justa be safe… An'… Let's see… Ah yeh!"

McGucket pointed to a high shelf, where some large alien drum had been tied down. Several long electrical cords trailed from it to the outlets near the floor. "An' up thar's ona them gravity-perplexin' engines… Not sure quite how it works, but I kin operate it half-proper…" To demonstrate, McGucket picked up a small remote and an empty aluminum soda can, then pressed something on the remote. The engine up on the shelf began to hum, and the can floated up into the air, crushed itself, and dropped into a trash basket on the floor. "DANG IT!" McGucket bent back over the remote. "Meant ta recycle that…"

"Hmm…" Wendy nodded. "You reprogrammed it into a tractor beam."

"Eh… I s'pose I did…"

"Good start…" The girl reached into her jacket, and produced a blue book with a pine tree on the cover. She opened it to somewhere near the middle, and jotted something down. McGucket noticed the words 'Final Solution' printed large across the top of the page. He thought that sounded a little ominous, but before he could inquire, she closed the book again.

Fortunately, he wasn't curious for long. "McGucket." She said. "Could I ask you a favor?"

"Sure…"

"…Okay… Uh…" Wendy snapped her fingers, trying to remember. "My backpack. First I'll need my backpack. Did you ever pick that up? It would have been next to the pilot seat in the saucer…"

"Uh… I think so…" McGucket wandered back into a cluttered corner, and rooted through a mess of cardboard boxes labeled 'contaminated'. Finally he located the item, and almost threw out his back trying to lift it. "Knee-hornin' noggin' figs! Whataya have in here?"

"A machine." She helped him lift it onto a workbench, where she unzipped it, and removed something the size of a motorcycle engine. "We're gonna need this."

"Eh?" McGucket frowned. "Whaddaya mean 'we'? And what is that?"

"Some kind of computer…? Dipper and I got it from some alien robot ghosts…"

"Alie-?"

"This… _This_ is the final solution. We're gonna head back down into Crash Site Omega—"

"We? Meanin'… Meanin' you and me? I don't much like that place…"

" _WE_." She emphasized. "You, me, Ford and Stan if they can, my dad if we need to. _WE_ head back to Crash Site Omega. Then we find that control room again, we reinstall this, and that's where _YOU_ come in. _You_ start the reactor back up. And then _y_ _ou_ reprogram the big ship's engines, just like you did with this little one." She nodded toward the pop can-crushing-artifact. "And you use it to smash the entire alien ecosystem. Kill everything. So nobody will ever be endangered by these creatures again… So nobody will have to die like Dipper died… And so he didn't die for nothing."

"…Oh." He nodded with a small voice.

There was silence for a moment.

McGucket opened his mouth. Then closed it. Then scratched his beard stubble awkwardly, and strummed his ringers across his ribs like a nervous tick. "Y'know, I… I get that yer goin' through a lot, an I'm real sorry about the radiation an-"

"Hey. Chill. He's dead, all right? You don't have to dodge around the issue, and you can't hurt my feelings… And it you think there's something wrong with me, there's not. This was the plan the whole time, it's just, like, super urgent now. So… Just keep talking about the salvage, alright?"

"All right… Uh… Wull… Wull, the ship ain't all we salvaged…"

"I know…" Wendy nodded. "…Where is she?"

McGucket led the way even deeper into the lab, past a few doors, and into what probably used to be the Northwests' master bedroom. The room bore little resemblance to its former purpose; toolboxes and cabinets now huddled toward the corners, the walls were covered in layers of prints and scribblings, and almost half the floor area was occupied by a single, enormous workbench. A hump the size of a multi-bear rose in the middle of the workbench, covered by an enormous, stained tarp.

"She's right here…" McGucket pulled the canvas aside, to reveal the dead body of the robot lion.

She/it was in pieces now. An arm, a leg, its entire saw mechanism, and all of its internal 'organs' had been cut off and pulled apart, now strewn to the side in semi-orderly fashion. Probes and wires and lab equipment had been invasively plugged in to some of the pieces, and others had been spray painted or marked with tape. Its oily black blood stained the table and floor.

"Sorry, the, uh… It mighta been a little messier than I figgered takin' 'er apart…" McGucket mumbled. "Kinda got pieces everywhere, and I'm not rightly sure where they all go. It's pretty… Uh… Confusin' down in there…"

"How'd the autopsy go beside for that?"

"Eh… Fine. Fine. I took a lotta pictures, did a lotta tests. Spent a good while a pokin' and a ponderin', and… Wull, I think I got most've 'er gibblets figured at this point. Know what does what. So… Well, I learned a right lot from this lass. It's… Wull, I don't wanna bore ya in the particulars…" McGucket reached under the workbench, and produced a small stack of jumbled, mismatched papers. "Yeh kin ponderize them notes if'n ya want…"

Wendy took the stack, and opened it to a random page. "Right…" After reading for about a minute, she pursed her lips and asked. "Just curious, how many words did you make up while writing this?"

McGucket looked where she was pointing. "'Self-replicating' is a real word." He protested. "So is 'alloying'."

"Alright then, how about 'scrapaflappers', 'galvmatronics', and 'sassafrassin'umburgflibbin'umpligumter?"

"…Ooh… I guess I did made a _few_ up… But they're pretty intuipparent, don't ya think?"

"Hmm." Wendy held her tongue as she tucked the notes into the journal. "'Peer review' is a thing, right? That's not some outdated thing that they just teach you in school and then it turns out it's not real… Right?"

"Er… Uh… I guess I'll re-dictaflerize it once I have the time…" McGucket mumbled. "But… Uh… But even if I ain't to purty at explain', the tech inside her is a step beyond anything I've ever seen… The pipe dream of every engineer since Da Vinci… If this lernin' got out inta the world… It could change robotics, change manufacturing, change energy storage and material recycling… _Change war_ … I… I got about 3 dozen patents drafted up now… And more on the way once I get 'er… Baby-maker… Figured…" McGucket timidly reached into a drawer, and gently removed an enormous stack of blueprints. But he held them away from his body, as if they were covered in plague.

"…Patents…?" Wendy muttered.

McGucket looked up at her with a little frown. And when she met his eyes, she saw no insanity in them. "I reckon this feline could make me a billionaire." The old inventor told her. "But it aint' right, seein' as how I didn't make 'er. An' I didn't discover 'er. An' I sure as heck didn't bring 'er down… So… Ms. Corduroy, I been meanin' ta ask ya… The patents… The money…" He held the blueprints out to her. "You… You want 'em?"

 _Billionaire…_

 _Wendy the billionaire…_

 _What a thought…_

"Heck. No." She stated flatly.

McGucket sighed. "But… They's yers. Yers by rights more than anyone's… Yeh earned it, an—"

"Those patents belong to Dipper." Wendy said. "As does the responsibility of deciding what to do with them. Me? Nah… I'm not… Smart or nerdy enough to know what to do with all of it."

"Yeah." McGucket sighed, and (in an almost relived way) crammed the blueprints back into the drawer. "Me neither."

"So…" Wendy put her hands on her hips, and turned back to the robot. "McGucket. I… Uh… Got a question."

"What's ticklin' yer thinker?"

"Well… The… Dipper's fight… Dipper fought this thing…" She spread her arms to indicate the enormity of the beast; saws the size of dinner plates, claws like steak knives, shelled in overlapping plates as impenetrable as a tank. As long as a small car, and ever-so-slightly heavier, with a back the height of a grown man's chest. "How." Wendy said. "How? This thing could wrestle an _Humvee_. And _win_ … And Dipper had my friggin' _axe_ … How…? How did he defend himself… Defend me… Against that?"

"Yeh… Yeh sure you wanna talk about this?"

"Yes." Wendy opened the journal to a new page, and wrote 'Robot Duel Tactics' across the top.

"Kay… 'Kay, well when I first saw her, I woulda sworn by _silly dumb luck_ …"

"Sounds like him."

"But the more I started pryin, the more types a things I saw what don't happen on accident… So now I think he knew what he was doin'… At least… Knew it well enough to ad-lib some strategy…"

"Sounds even more like him." She grunted.

"See, he musta stuck them logsaw chaps in 'er chompers right at the beginning…" McGucket pointed to the shredded white fibers he hadn't yet untangled from the saw mechanism. "That woulda distracted her, annoyed 'er… And now see here." McGucket led the way around to the other side of the monster, to show Wendy some dents and scars in the right side of her neck. "She was missin' one a 'er lookers; made 'er blind as a bat ta 'er right side. So he was able ta get in close here, probably dodge whenever she took a swipe. An' by the look a' somea these marks, I'd say he actually climbed up on top of 'er, and chopped down like that."

"And that _worked_ …?" Wendy frowned. "Just _beating_ her with an _axe_?"

" _Shucks_ no; none of these even made it past the outer layer… But… But there does appear to be a weak point in her armor _here_ …" McGucket pointed to a small chink on the back of the creature's neck. "Beats me how he found it in the first place, but once he used the axe ta snap loose a few antenna… That gave 'im a clear shot at it…"

"Okaaaaay…"

"Then he musta jammed a branch in there, then got 'er to flip over somehow? I'm hazy on that bit. But somehow he used 'er own weight ta drive the branch in far enough ta start fibblerpatin' with 'er main wiring bundle (basically 'er spine). That woulda paralyzed 'er rear legs, and I'll reckon the fight woulda been one-sided from there…"

Wendy took a minute to write all this down. "Hmm… How _long_ did this fight take?"

"Eh? I dunno…"

"Right…" Wendy flipped a few pages back, and stared for a moment. "I've just got one last question then."

"Wassat?"

"Somewhere in all this technology… Giblets… Organs… Whatever you call it…" Wendy waved a hand toward all the oily machinery lying about the workbench. "Did she have some kind of… _Onboard teleporter_?"

"Eh? A _what_?"

"You know… Teleporter… Like in Star Trek?"

"What's a 'Star Trek'?"

"Never mind, just… Something that can beam you from place to place instantly…? Disappear and appear somewhere else…? It would make a bright flash of light…?"

"Eh… Oh yeah, I think I saw that in an anime one time…" McGucket scratched his head. "I dunno what a device like that would look like in real life though… I figger somethin' like that would chow through alota power, so it would have to be pretty big… So I, I doubt it…"

"Hmm."

"What's confoundin' ya ta ask?"

"Because…" She flipped the journal back to Dipper's pages, where he recorded the specifics of 'Juan'. "Remember that little cub we brought in, about a week ago?"

"Yeah…?"

"Well, when his mom first came by and tried to kill us, Juan sawed Mabel, and so Ford was about to kill him with a magnet gun… But right before he pulled the trigger, there was this crazy bright flash of bluish light, and when we all got our wits back, he was gone without a trace. _None of us have seen him since_."

McGucket frowned.

"And that's not all." Wendy continued. "During Dipper's fight… With… With the mom… _This_ thing… Well, I was unconscious for the whole battle, but then when I woke up… I was woken up by a flash of blue light. _The same thing!_ And then I saw Dipper… Die… And… And some… Some of his last words, his _last words_ , were _'She Cheated!'_ Now… So… SO! So what did _that_ mean, huh?! How do you 'cheat' in a duel to the death where there _are_ no rules?! _What would have happened if she hadn't 'cheated'? What does the blue light have to do with anything? WHAT DOES IT MEAN?!_ "

"Hey, calm down feller, it's all—"

"And so… So I was thinking about all of this, and I'm thinking these creatures _must_ have some sort of emergency teleporter! It doesn't have to be very big, or very powerful. It doesn't have to move them very far… Just far enough to evacuate a building… Just fast enough to get the advantage on an enemy, just long enough to strike the final deadly blow… _Just enough to 'cheat'…_ "

"I… I don't know…" McGucket turned back to the scribblings on the wall, and put both hands on his forehead. "I don't know… I swear there was nothin' like that in there… I… I don't even know what a teleporter would look like… Nobody's ever… Built… Anything like that…"

"You sure? Nobody?"

"Well… I mean… Ford and I stole ourselves a hyperdrive node from Crash Site Omega back when we was building that confounded portal… That _might_ have been small enough to fit in 'er chest… But it's not here… And… That device worked to open a portal across dimensions… Not at all like yer talkin' about…"

"Well then…" Wendy stuttered. "Think even smaller…" She flipped to another page of the journal; one of Dipper's pages, from near the start. "Like… Maybe… M-m-maybe…" Her voice lowered, as if she barely dared to speak these words. "T-t-tape… Tape measure size…?"

McGucket sighed, and gestured inclusively to the body. "I been in and out of this thing for days now… I pulled out everythin' mysterious I saw on the x-rays. I can tell ya the brand a' bacon and beans she likes fer breakfast… And I ain't found anything like that…"

Wendy sighed. "Ugh… It's fine… Never mind."

"I mean, I ain't got everythin' figgered yet, so I'll keep lookin'…"

"I said never mind." Wendy closed the journal, and returned it to her jacket. "The less you know about what I'm thinking… Anyway, dude. Stay chill, see ya around." She turned to leave the lab.

"…'Chill'? Whassat? Some new-fangled kid phrase?"

She paused, and sighed quietly. "'Chill' is what I used to be."

* * *

"HEY POINDEXTER!" Stan hollered into the walkie talkie.

A weary, growling voice responded. "Go _away_ Stanley, unless it's something more important, which you _know_ it's not…"

"Yeah, it actually is." Stan grunted. "It's about your niece."

Ford sighed. "Stanley… I'm… I'm busy… And you know I'm no good with kids…"

"Yeah, well I'm no good with ailing grandmothers and panicked Soos, but guess what _I've_ had to deal with all week? And besides, she doesn't need _you_ , she needs what you _have_."

"…Well, it's not ready… You know that… And what's the sudden urgency, anyway?"

"Well." Stanley dared a glance down at the girl in his arms. She met his eye with a silent plea to _don't tell them what I did_. "We made a little vow of secrecy… Her and I… So that's private. _You_ don't get to ask questions."

"What. Happened."

"Here's what you're gonna do." Stanley commanded. "You're gonna meet me at the vending machine with a jackhammer. _I_ give _Mabel_ to _you_ , and you show her what you're working on. Maybe try the process on her. _You_ give the _jackhammer_ to _me_ , and I'll do what I will. Then we leave well enough alone and move on with it. How's that?"

"Rrr… Fine."

They were in the gift shop within a few minutes, waiting for the lab's secret entrance to unlock.

When it finally did, Mabel found herself staring. Because this didn't look quite like Great Uncle Ford.

"Geez…!" Stan frowned. "Get some sleep, poindexter… Are you okay?"

"I'm fine…" Ford looked down at himself, and coughed once. "I've… I've traveled the multiverse, Stanley… I've had much worse than this."

"Yeah, well, radiation poisoning makes you just as dead as mantis-person virus…"

"We said we wouldn't talk about Dimension C-134 in front of kids."

"Fine, just…" Stan took the jackhammer, and gave Mabel an encouraging nudge. "Just take care of yourself, bro…"

"Yeah…" Ford took Mabel's hand, closed the bulkhead behind him, and started down the stairs. The world was suddenly quiet, dark, and close. The only light was the small flame Ford held with ailing hand, the only sound the metallic clanking beneath their footsteps, and the dry hacking of Ford's throat, and his sniffling as he wiped blood from his nose with a stained handkerchief.

Mabel hobbled after more hesitantly, unsure what to expect. "So…" She finally spoke up.

"Don't get your hopes up." Ford cut in suddenly. "This isn't a solution. This isn't healing. This isn't even life…"

"Well… What is it? What are you even doing…?" Mabel asked. "I didn't know what you're doing down here, so why would I…"

"It's all we have." Ford tapped a code into the control panel to summon the elevator. When they stepped in, he hit a button she'd never noticed before. "But please. No matter what you see, don't be happy. And don't be hopeful. This is a kindness to you, and nobody else."

The door opened on 2: Ford's study.

The first thing Mabel noticed was the huge computer standing in a corner, with all its flickering green screens and big brass control panel.

The second thing she noticed was the coffin.

She chocked, and put a hand to her mouth. "Sorry." Ford put a hand on her shoulder, completely ignorant on how to soften the blow. "Yes. That's him. Don't worry, the container is properly sealed, so he won't smell… We just don't really have a place to put it at the moment, so I keep it down here… Keeps me focused…"

"Dipper…"

"Come. This way." Ford ushered her past the casket, and over toward the computer. When they reached it, he had her sit down in a comfortable, padded little chair. The screens lit up with the words:

-PROJECT MENTEM BOOTUP COMPLETE

-PLEASE SELECT MINDSCAPE INTERFACE OPTION OR INSERT SUBJECT INTO SCANNING HARNESS

Ford then opened a drawer, and removed a strange helmet, which trailed a thick black data cord off to the main computer. He put the helmet on her Mabel's head, and clamped itself in place around her cheeks, while a new message appeared:

-ALERT: SUBJECT SECURED IN SCANNING HARNESS

-ALERT: SUBJECT BRAINWAVE DETECTED

-SELECT OPTION:

Mabel stopped reading the messages; they seemed too nerdy and confusing. Ford was typing now, but she turned away.

\- MINDSCAPE INTERFACE WITH STORED BACKUP

-SELECT BACKUP FILENAME:

\- MASON_PINES_

-SCANNING FOR COMPATIBILITY…

\- COMPATIBILITY MATCH

-INITIATING MINDSCAPE INTERFACE

-COMPILING

\- 1%

\- 2%

\- 3%

\- 4%

-ALERT: INITIATE REM SLEEP TO CONTINUE

"Hey…" Ford propped up some pillows around her to keep her upright. "This… Might hurt a little bit, it is the first time I've actually tried it, but… But you need to go to sleep. I'll be watching the whole time, so… If anything starts to go wrong, just start dreaming about the color turquoise, and I'll pull you out… Okay?"

"Oh… Kay…?"

"Okay. Close your eyes…" He pushed another button.

-INITIATING REM BRAINWAVE DRIVING INTERFERENCE

\- INTERFERENC SUCCESSFUL

-REM SLEEP INITIATED

\- 5%

\- 6%

\- 7%

\- 8%

* * *

There was now a strange thing leaning against an RV somewhere in the aptly-named town of Boring, Oregon. It was a thing that looked and acted to all the world like the gothic teenage band musician known as Robert Stacey Valentino. But the resemblance stopped at the surface. Just beneath that rough, embittered, sarcastic exterior, there lay a highly intelligent, highly dangerous, totally alien thing.

An intelligent, dangerous, alien thing which was now filled with joy.

 _Yes._

Things were looking pretty good.

He could take deep breaths of the fresh, clear air. He could spread his arms and soak up the gentle warmth of the sun. And the wind!

The trees were tall, beautiful, and green!

The people were happy, compassionate, and caring!

The buildings were smooth, clean, and comfortable!

He had a bed!

The books were free, thick, and full of so much incredible knowledge!

The sky was bright, blue, and the voluminous stretch of its infinite expanse filled him with wonder, passion, even such high and lofty fantasies; an elation that words could not capture…

Freedom… What a word… What an idea…

 _Freedom…_

But most of all, there was the _food_.

For once, he was eating as much as he wanted, and anything he wanted. Pizza, soda pop, apples, berries, bread, juice, steak, eggs, squirrels… Anything! No more beans. Never again those blasted beans. On this new diet, he felt himself growing stronger. As if for his entire life he'd been malnourished and sickly, but without anything to compare it to, he'd never realized the fact.

Was he growing bigger? Maaaaybe… It was hard to tell precisely. He spent most of his time shrunk down to Robbie's size, where no external change was visible. But it seemed that every time he morphed into this disguise, it was slightly more difficult. The lattice structure of his sinews and flesh had to collapse further and further into a higher density. And he found he could no longer mimic the little things like gnomes, pigs, and dogs; he could only go so small, and then he hit a limit. And that limit seemed to be slowly rising.

 _Good grief, it's only been 4 days since my escape, and already I feel like my body, mind, and spirit have progressed more than I ever thought possible… What did Stanford used to say? When he was happy, he said he felt like 'a million dollars'… Well that's me right now. These have been the best days of my life…_

Oh, sure, it had been pretty dangerous at first. People occasionally noticed 'Robbie' doing odd things. 'Robbie' seemed to forget the people he knew, or the facts that ought to be second nature. 'Robbie' seemed to be so stoned that his fingers were clumsy on the guitar. 'Robbie' would lash out at the people who loved him. 'Robbie' would retreat to the quiet of his RV to sulk for hours at a time. 'Robbie' used up all his parents' internet data, researching and watching videos of the strangest commonplace activities. 'Robbie' didn't seem to know any cuss words. 'Robbie's voice sounded ever-so-slightly off whenever he wasn't concentrating. 'Robbie' really wasn't on his A-game in the concert he'd been so excited for.

He'd tried his best to keep most of this hidden from them, and he'd done pretty well. And even when they _did_ consciously notice something off, nobody would really go quite so far as to actually expect he'd been _replaced_ … What kind of person was that paranoid, huh? Certainly nobody Robbie knew…

 _Well… Word has it, Robbie did know someone smart enough to root out the truth…_

 _But… Word has is, that one was dead…_

And, of course, any tiny suspicions or complaints from his friends or bandmates disappeared quickly. He rapidly memorized everything Robbie once memorized. Adapted to smell like him, and wore the same makeup and chemicals. Learned to walk like him, talk like him, sass like him, kiss like him… Even play like him. Yes, the shapeshifter had learned to play the guitar. Learned to play it very well, actually. All Robbie's favorite songs, he'd practiced and practiced until he was almost as good as the original. Good enough that nobody could tell them apart.

Foreseeing that he'd eventually have to mimic others besides this teen, he began to dabble in other activities when nobody was watching. Drums, bass, flute, piano, singing and dancing… He now knew everyone in the band well enough to impersonate them. Same for Robbie's close circle of friends, and a few other locals.

Life…

Liberty…

The pursuit of happiness…

Things, all things, were looking pretty good.

As he leaned Robbie's form back against the RV, and watched the sun slowly rise over a little lake, the shapeshifter really did feel like a million dollars.

Suddenly, an old song sprung to his head. The nervous little inventor named Fiddleford had once played this song, long ago in the lab. The man sure did like his country… And the shapeshifter had listened bitterly to the tune, understanding half the meaning and half the words. But now, he knew what all the words meant. And he finally grasped the whole meaning. Almost on impulse, he opened his mouth and began to sing quietly, his voice echoing faintly over the clear, empty landscape.

 _"I got rid of the shackles that bound me,_

 _And the guards that were always around me…_

 _There were tears on the mail mother wrote me in jail,_

 _But I'm free from the chain gang now…_

 _…_

 _"All the years I was known and respected,_

 _'Till one day I was wrongly suspected…_

 _I was shackled in chains in the cold, freezing rain,_

 _But I'm free from the chain gang now…_

 _…_

 _"All the years I was known by a number;_

 _How I kept my mind is a wonder…_

 _But like a bird in a tree, I got my liberty,_

 _And I'm free from the chain gang now…_

 _…_

 _"I got rid of the shackles that bound me,_

 _And the guards that were always around me…_

 _There were tears on the mail mother sent me in jail,_

 _But I'm free from the chain gang now…"_

The door of the RV opened and promptly squeaked back shut, having just dispensed Robbie's beloved girlfriend, Tambry… The woman limped down the steps, squinting and yawning in the morning light, as she fished her phone out of her pocket.

She leaned back against the wall next to him, and rested her head on his shoulder. "Like, I totally didn't know you liked country." She smiled, as her thumb danced across her phone's screen, toggling from facebook to twitter to Instagram to tumblr to facebook to twitter to Instagram to tumblr.

"Oh, like, yeah…" He flipped his hair in a perfectly Robbie way. "I got talents pourin' out my _ears_ , baby, you got no idea… Good morning, by the way."

"Ha ha. Good morning…" She jostled him. "Just never thought I'd ever, like, see you get more than 3 feet from Death Metal…"

"Oh, you know… Stuff gets old… How 'bout _you_ , Tambers? What do you, like, like?"

"Me…?" She glanced at him with a warm smile. "You never asked me what _I_ liked…"

"Lay it on me, girl."

She hesitated for a moment. "Like… I don't know… Like, transcendental stuff mostly… Like, eerie sorta ooooh-oOOOOoooh type? You know?"

"Heh heh… Oh yeah…" The shifter pulled out Robbie's guitar, and strummed a few eerie, transcendental chords. "How's that?"

"Wow, that's really good… You ever thought of doing a song like that?"

"Oh, I been thinking of a lot of things lately… But mostly… I've been thinking anything for you, Baby…"

"Ha ha!" She beamed, and turned her head toward him. "What'd you do with the _real_ Robbie?"

 _She's joking. No need to panic, I can even play it up…_

"Tied him up in a closet, made off with his hoodie and his girl…" He leaned down, and rubbed noses with her in an adorable, romantic sort of way. "Glad I did too."

She laughed. She thought it was hilarious.

Tambry's phone interrupted them about then, as it was prone to do. When she glanced at it and saw the caller ID, she pronounced the word 'ugh' in that drawn out, sharp way that hip teenagers do. "Uhhhh-GUH… It's, like, my parents…" She released him and started typing.

"Like… What do they want…?" The shifter frowned.

"Oh…" She glanced through the text. "They're just starting to get nervous… Want me _home_ …"

"Oh yeah, we said we'd be back by now, huh?"

"Yeah… I'll tell them to bug off…" Tambry began to type. "Like, we're not little kids anymore…"

"Uh…" He scratched his neck with one fingerless glove. "Actually Tambers, I think they might be right… Or… I mean… They're not _right_ … But don't you think we should head back to Gravity Falls anyway?"

"Whaddaya mean?"

"Like… The concert's all done… And Boring is… Really boring now…"

"Oh…" She glanced over the still lake and the few scattered houses. "Yeah, I guess so…"

"Also… Uh… I kinda sorta ran outta cash last night, and I ate our leftover pizza this morning, so…" _So I'd have to eat you soon. Which wouldn't be a problem, but people might start to get suspicious._

"Ha ha!" She smiled as she put her phone away, and began walking around for the passenger-side door. "All right then, I guess that makes sense…"

"Let's roll, baby."

Indeed, they should go back to Gravity Falls.

But not for the reasons he told her. There was one thing more important to the Shapeshifter than food, pleasure, strength, excitement… He wanted a purpose. He wanted to know who he was. _Ford found me in an egg, back before I could speak, before I was even old enough to remember… He never told me where he found me. And now here I am, the only known shapeshifting creature in the world. The only being like myself…_

 _But I can't be the only one. I can't be alone. Something laid my egg. Somebody was my father. Somebody was my mother. I have people. Are they dead? Then I need to assimilate their knowledge and steal their stuff. Were they killed? Then I need to avenge them. Are they hiding? Then I am already one of them, and in need of their alliance. Are they very, very far away, up beyond the grand blue sky? Then I need a means to return to them; a vehicle of some sort._

 _Did they ever love me?_

 _If they loved me, it seems they would leave me clues to find them…_

 _Maybe that has something to do with the strange dreams I've been having…_

 _But regardless, these grand answers I seek are not to be found in Boring. These answers lie in the home of my sworn enemies. They beat me once, they will never beat me again. I will have my revenge, and I will have the knowledge of my family. And THAT, poor, gullible Tambry, is the REAL reason I must return…_

The shapeshifter climbed into the cab of the RV, jammed the key into its slot, and started the engine. Tambry cranked up some music on the radio, and he spun the steering wheel in the direction of the highway as he pressed the gas pedal. His voice joined Tambry's as they sung along to the radio, but his mind was still playing a different song.

 _There were tears on the mail mother wrote me in jail,_

 _But I'm free from the chain gang now…_

* * *

Ford was almost asleep himself by the time the compilation finished, and the immense processing power of the human brain was being utilized to run 2 minds at once.

\- 97%

\- 98%

\- 99%

\- 100%

-INTERFACE SUCCESSFUL

-READY FOR OUTPUT

\- DISPLAY? Y/N

\- Y

-OUTPUT_1:

Ow. That hurt. Hey I don't hurt anymore. Wait, what happened? Why aren't I itchy? Why can't I remember? Why can't I feel my tongue? Where's Wendy? Wendy. Wendy. Wendy.

-OUTPUT_2:

Dipper?

* * *

 _Author's Note:_

Ladies and Gentleman, introducing the Shapeshifter! One of my favorite characters in the show, and he doesn't even appear in this website's character listings. Heck, _Pyronica_ made it on there! How'd our beloved redhead-mimicking, bean-mascot-plagiarizing, alien-mothered, slimy-white-skinned murderous monster get overlooked?

Explanation for the song: I listen to a lot of Johnny Cash, and that lovely little song popped up back when I was writing chapter 16. And I thought it fit the Shifter so perfectly that I just HAD to include it. So here it is. Yeah. Yay.

On a related note: Poll Time! Who thinks he should give himself a proper name, something better than 'The Shapeshifter?' I sure kinda do.

Also, final note: Stick around! This story took a turn in a very different direction, but we're not done yet. We've still got an alien race to exterminate, a villainous killer to bring to justice, a boy to save, and a sci-fi action mystery to solve. This plotline WAS in the plan since about chapter 4, so... I know what I'm doing... Ish. Wish me luck!


	21. Stay Strong

_Author's note:_

As I've mentioned briefly before, this story ties in with another of my projects, a comic on DeviantArt about Wendy. The comic serves as some kind of prequel to this story, and explains many of Wendy's behaviors and attitudes throughout. So, the day is finally here: this is the day when the plot from the comic finally starts to really influence the larger story. So this is basically my last call for you to read it. If you already have, or just did, you think you know vaguely what to expect. As for the rest of you, consider this a warning: there's gonna be some plot-twisty weirdness ahead. If you're not prepared to suck it up and deal with it, I don't know what to tell you.

To get to the comic, take this link and replace the spaces with periods:

codylabs deviantart com/art/Gravity-Falls-Wendy-Vs-The-Future-Page-1-670009382

Now, onto the story.

Also, SPOILER ALERT for the comic, so hey.

* * *

He'd stopped off at Tambry's house just long enough to drop her off, then hid Robbie's van in the woods and continued through town on foot, wearing a disguise that would draw no attention: that of some random out-of-towner.

He was somewhat at a loss of where to start his search for answers, so he stopped by the _GF Gossiper_ to pick up a copy of the local paper. _NEW SPECIES OF FUNGUS DISCOVERED IN LOCAL REPORTER'S ARMPIT!_ The headline read. He turned to the next page. _RAIN EXPECTED DURING BAKE SALE! LIKELY WATER!_ He flipped a few pages ahead to the sports section. _DEATHBALL TRIBUTES CHOSEN! Remember kids, next year it could be you!_

 _Geez._ The shapeshifter wondered. _What kind of sad, pathetic sack of human waste would actually consider this news?_

But then, one headline caught his eye. _INVESTIGATION CONTINUES INTO MYSTERIOUS KILLER ROBOT! If you are the evil mad scientist responsible, please turn yourself in!_

 _Ah yes…_

 _That whole thing…_ The Shifter read through the article. Apparently, nobody really seemed to know where this 'killer robot' came from, what happened, or why. The inept police force was getting less than nowhere with their "investigation", and local coot/genius/former mad scientist Fiddleford McGucket was indisposed to answer questions, even though he was the one handling the machine's autopsy, over at the former NorthWest manor.

With nothing more pressing to do, the Shifter decided he may as well pay McGucket a visit. After all, the old human was one of those who'd trapped him in that bunker all those years ago. A little payback had been a long time coming, and really, who would miss one eccentric old man? Besides, he might know something about the Shifter's origins.

He asked a random passerby on the street the way to the manor, and followed her directions down the road and toward the hills.

Twenty minutes later, he found himself disguised as an unnotable ordinary deer, standing just outside the property. The front entrance was currently being blocked by a gigantic human in a gigantic pickup truck, whose combined bulk didn't look to be moving it anytime soon. _Climbing over the wall would draw too much attention… Is there a way around the back?_ Just as the he turned to search, movement by the gate caught his attention: a human girl had just exited the mansion.

But not just any girl.

 _THE girl._

Wendy. Wendy Corduroy. One of the few humans who actually _did_ know something about the robotic life, and one of the most likely to know anything at all about _alien_ life. Coincidentally, also one of the humans whom the shifter hated most of all.

He stared, and smelled, and listened.

The girl was looking tired and weak; overly pale, with rings under her eyes, tangled, unkept hair, and bringing a faint smell of unwashed sickness in her wake. Her walk was comparatively stooped and sluggish as she loped down the steps and opened the passenger-side door of the large man's truck. _Pathetic… Hilarious… Fortunate…_ The Shapeshifter wondered at his luck at finding her so helpless. He just had to wait until she was alone…

She closed the truck's door behind her, and began to talk with the man inside. He couldn't hear what they were saying…

"Wait feller!" A cackling southern accent entered the scene, and the Shifter saw Fiddleford scampering out of the building, a few tools in his hands.

Wendy rolled down the window to address him. "S'up?" The shifter enlarged and focused his ears to make out the distant conversation.

"Eh… Wull, uh…" McGucket scratched his scalp. "This little _mission_ a yers… Who's all goin' with ya?"

"I don't know…" Wendy shrugged. "You, me, Stan 1, Stan 2… And how 'bout you, dad? You in?"

The gigantic man spoke up, his voice booming as if it had no lower volume. "YEAH."

"Okay, yeah, I think that's all…" Wendy nodded. "I… don't really wanna drag Soos or Mabel into this after what happened…"

"Uh-huh…" McGucket glanced down the road. "Uh… Yeh ain't goin' _now_ , is ya?"

Wendy shrugged again. "Well… Yeah, close to now. Like, an hour? What do _you_ have to do to prepare?"

"Oh, okay, uh… Just need ta charge up me robo-legs… And get the plasma beam ready for a field test… And reviewify some of my notes…"

"ROBO LEGS?" The large man frowned.

"Plasma beam…?" Wendy asked.

"Eh, ye'll see…" McGucket waved a hand dismissively. "Gimme two hours?"

"Okay… I think the Stans are at the Mystery Shack now, so meet us there then."

"Right gab-smack tootin!" McGucket turned to head back indoors.

"WAIT." Dan stopped him. "SO… SO WILL THIS SUPERWEAPON THING OF YERS DESTROY ALL THE ROBOTS? THAT HOW IT WORKS?"

Wendy opened her mouth to answer 'yes', but then closed it again. She looked at McGucket. The old man shuffled uncomfortably. "Wull, I… Most of 'em, I'll warrant… Tidal forces'll rip the larger things apart, and a lot of the smaller things'll be crushed in the mix… But there's a swell chance a few critters might find a safe place, underground or in a shell…"

"Ugh." Wendy glanced back at her dad. "Job for another day then."

Dan considered this for a moment. "WANT ME TA GET A POSSE TOGETHER? MY CREW, SOME BIKERS, THE GLEEFUL GANG? THEY'VE GOT A SOFT SPOT FOR THINGS LIKE THIS."

"A posse…? To do what?"

"TA HEAD INTA THE FOREST. Y'KNOW, WHILE THE REST OF YOU ARE DOWN IN THE SHIP, WE COULD BE CLEANIN' UP STRAGGLERS"

She thought about it, then nodded. "Sure, uh… Just remember to stay… Stay… Hey, how far from the blast should they stay?"

"Eh… Lesse here…" McGucket twiddled his fingers like the beads of an abacus. "If we tune the ol' banjo right, it'll only completely overpower the Earth's natural gravity within a mile radius. I'll reckon much further than 2 miles, ya won't feel nothin' but a hiccup… So… Keep yerself 3 miles out 'till it's done firing, and you'll be safe as corn puddin'."

"Okay…" Wendy dug around in her pockets and produced a map. The shifter saw her draw a circle on it, and then hand it to her dad. "Just at least outside of _here_ until we shut down the field. We'll give you a call when it's safe…"

"RIGHT… WHAT KINDA WEAPONS SHOULD WE BRING…?"

"Umm… Magnet guns would be great, but we only have, like, 3 of them…"

"I got the parts ta hootinany up 4 more'a them jiggers." McGucket suggested. "Want me ta bring 'em?"

"…Yeah."

"AND IF THEY DON'T WORK?" Dan asked.

"Uh, if they don't…" Wendy scratched her head. "If they don't, go in with axes, shotguns, or… I don't know, get creative. If it's one of the _lions…_ We killed a small pack of them earlier, so that may have been all of 'em. I don't know. But if you run into one, they've got a weak point in their armor. In the back of their neck beneath their antennae. Once you stun them, drive a steak or something far enough in there, and it'll sever their spine… Also, if anybody has logging chaps, those work pretty well against saws… That's… Oh geez, that's how Dipper killed the last one… Uh…" She turned to her dad. "Am I forgetting anything?"

"THINK WE'RE GOOD. I'LL DROP YOU OFF AT THE SHACK THING, AND GO GATHER PEOPLE."

"Okay… Oh yeah, it's also kind of a secret that aliens exist." Wendy reminded her father. "You kinda just found out, but this should stay between as few as possible."

"I'LL TELL EM IT'S ALL MAD SCIENCE."

"Great…"

The truck drove off down the road, and McGucket returned indoors.

The deer that had been watching the exchange tilted its head. ' _Mission.' 'Superweapon.' 'Ship.' 'Aliens.'_ What mission? What superweapon? _What ship? WHAT ALIENS?_ These tidbits all sounded very interesting, and he decided to put his revenge plans on hold for the moment, at least until these immediate questions were answered. Perhaps for now, his part was but to _wait and watch_ … After all, murder was easy; he would always have a chance to murder. But to steal their knowledge and their secrets would be so much more important…

He morphed into a much faster animal, and was able to keep up with their truck with relative ease.

* * *

Fifteen minutes later, Dan left her at the Mystery Shack, and turned his truck back toward town.

She glanced over her shoulder at the machine in her backpack: The computer system they could use to reactivate the UFO's engines and destroy the Forest of Daggers. _Today's the day… Ugh, today's the day… We're closer than ever to finishing the mission._

But then she thought back to the robot lying dissected in McGucket's lab, and to the answers its autopsy _hadn't_ answered… All the possibilities and trains of thought she'd chased to dead ends over the past few days, all the secrets and dark knowledge hidden in her mind. It seems she'd tried everything… _We're still further than ever from saving him._

She looked around at the trees, standing tall and indifferent around her. Somewhere deep in these woods, hidden in the dark, weird shadows beneath the trees, was there an answer? Was there a way to save him? This was Gravity Falls, after all; a solution to undo death wouldn't be the weirdest thing they'd found out here. No… Definitely not the weirdest.

She would find something.

Or something would find her.

She felt like she was being watched.

But feeling like you're being watched was nothing new around these parts, so she continued up the drive toward the Shack without giving it another thought.

She was almost there when the door flew open, and Stan stumbled out, across the porch, and off through the grass in the direction of the forest. He had a large electric jackhammer tucked under one arm, and a can of diesel under the other.

Wendy waved an arm and called for his attention. "Hey Stan! Need to talk about stuff; you got a minute? Where's Stan 2?"

"Wendy…?" He turned around and saw her. "What…? Shouldn't you still be in bed? Radiation poisoning and all that…?"

She frowned, utterly tired of people pointing this out. "Oh _yeah_ , I probably _should_." She went on the defensive. "Just like my _dad_ should probably be at work, _Stan 2_ should be in a hospital from what I hear, and _you_ should probably be in jail if this world were fair. But here we are, and there's more important stuff than us, so do you have a minute or don't you?"

Stan sighed, considered it for a second, then shrugged.

"So you mean business." He remarked.

She nodded. "We're gonna kill the robots today. Could use your and Stan 2's help. You in?"

"Uh… Ford's pretty sick. What would this involve?"

"Basically we're-"

"Hey, uh… Hold on." He interrupted her and pressed the gas can into her arms. She noticed his tool was a jackhammer. "Tell me on the way. I found something you'll want to see." And he led the way off into the trees.

Wendy's curiosity won out over her impatience, (if barely) and she followed.

"Okay." She said. "So the extermination thing. Basically we're…"

* * *

 _Author's Note:_

You, dear readers, already know the plan from reading chapter 16, so I won't bore you. Suffice to say that Wendy told Stan everything, and the Shapeshifter overheard every word. And he was much more interested than Stan was.

And while I'm on the air, have you read the comic yet?

* * *

When Wendy was finished, Stan nodded slowly. "Probably for the best…"

"Yeah… Gonna head out as soon as McGucket gets here with whatever tools he needs."

"Hmm…"

Five minutes of silent walking later, Stan's pace slowed to a stop near the center of a grove of birch trees. His eyes peered around the environment, searching for wherever he'd last seen their item of interest. Finally he found it. "Well, it's still here… Uh… Good." He sighed.

Wendy turned and saw it too. She recognized the shape instantly of course, but spent the first couple seconds wondering who would build such a thing, and why. But then the truth slowly dawned on her: that no man had made it. That somehow, it was the real deal. Before she even gave the command, her right hand had already drawn and readied her axe, and her eyes were sweeping the surrounding trees, looking for fires, smoke, monsters, eye-bats, or whatever madness this creature's continued existence might spawn.

Seeing nothing but sunshine and grey/green trees, her eyes returned to the statue. "Is that really Bill…?" She asked.

"Yeah…" Stan cut her off, as if saying his name was somehow taboo. "It's him."

"How—"

"Remember when he left his body to enter my mind?"

"…Yeah…?" (She was a tapestry at the time, but she always left that part out.)

"Yeah… Well… I think… I think this is that… This is what he left behind. Same size. Same pose… I don't know what the whole story is, but… It's him." Stan hesitantly lifted a leg, and kicked the statue's upraised arm.

No reaction.

"'Kay then…" Stan took out the jackhammer, and locked a large chipping bit into the end. "Help me with this."

"Wait…" Wendy held up a hand. "Wait, umm…"

"'Wait'?!" Stan spun on her. "Whaddaya mean 'wait'?! What, you wanna spare whatever's left of him? give him a chance? Wanna shake a hand? Try and buy your little 'boyfriend' back?! That it? HUH?"

"WHAT?!" Wendy snapped. "NO! DIPPER WOULD RATHER HAVE DIED! I… I mean… I mean he would rather _stay dead_ than… Than have us do that… I mean… What I meant was… Never mind. Never mind. Let's do this."

Wendy turned her axe around, gripped it with both hands, and used the flat part on the back like a hammer to strike the statues' hat.

Stan hefted the jackhammer level with the statue's eye, pressed it in, and pulled the trigger.

The sound of its metallic tapping seemed to fill the forest, echoing between and through the trees as if the entire forest could hear. The eye chipped, then chipped more, then cracked in two, then the bit was through the eye and deeper into the statue. Wendy's axe finally smashed through the hat, and the item fell to the ground.

Thus did the dreaded thing slowly, slowly come apart.

Stan didn't expect it to be hollow.

Wendy didn't expect its insides to reek like a rotting animal.

No matter. Once they were through breaking apart the 'shell', Stan reached for the gas can, and poured diesel over the whole thing. While he did, Wendy used her axe to chop down a small tree, and cut off a few smaller limbs. She stacked the wood in a flammable way over the rubble, and Stan tossed a lighter.

The pile ignited instantly, and the wood kept it burning. In the heat, the last large chunks of stone cracked and chipped, until there didn't remain much to see at all. The stink faded, and the smoke turned from black to grey, as if some small burden had been lifted from the natural world.

Wendy leaned back against a tree and crossed her arms. Stan sunk the tip of the jackhammer into the ground, and leaned against it like a walking stick. Both their eyes stayed fixed on the statue's remains, while their hearts nursed hatred. The flames quietly flickered and hissed as the minutes stretched on, the only sound in the forest.

"How'd you find it?" Wendy finally asked.

"Just…" Stan shrugged. "Just… Goin' for a walk… Found it." His mind was far away, and didn't bother to make his mouth lie well.

"We're in the middle of nowhere…" Wendy frowned.

Stan opened his mouth, and closed it again.

Stan's previous objection came back to Wendy's mind: why would he think she wanted to shake its hand…? Where would that terrible idea have come from? "…Was it Mabel?" Wendy theorized, hoping she was wrong. "…Did she find it? …Did she shake his hand?"

Stan rubbed his hands through his eyes, and sighed. "If… Ugh, oh geez… Well, if she'd been _about to_ … I woulda promised not to tell."

 _So it really IS that bad._ Wendy thought. _This really IS our darkest hour._ "Oh… Okay…" She said. "Right. I didn't hear nothin' from you…"

"No ya didn't."

They watched the fire for a minute more.

Suddenly Wendy let out a little yell, stepped up, and threw her axe at a nearby tree. It embedded almost halfway. "Everything's just falling apart!" She yelled at nobody in particular. "Everything! We… We all want him back so bad, but we don't know how, and now that he's gone… It's like we're not good people anymore! We're not heroes! Does that make any sense? Like… Like remember Weirdmageddon? We all survived, but none of us _did_ anything… It was only when Dipper came along… He found me, _sitting on my butt_ , and he brought me along… And then we found Mabel, _sleeping in a dream_ , and brought her along… And then we found you, _hiding in the shack_ , and brought you along… And then we found Stan 2, _helpless and trapped_ , and we brought him along… _Dipper_ was the one that saved us all, because he was the only one who knew how to stand up and be a _hero_ … Without him… It… It all started and ended with him…"

Stan scratched his neck.

"And now… Now it's looking bleaker and bleaker... No way to beat death… Now all we're doing is trying to avenge him… Now we're getting desperate… It's _all. Falling. Apart_ …"

Wendy returned her axe to her belt and fell silent. She had more words to say, but didn't want to let them out.

Stan thought about it all for a while.

"Who was he to you?" Stan finally asked.

Wendy glanced at him, then back to the flames. She shrugged. "A friend." Then amended it. "My best friend."

"More than a friend?" Stan asked.

She nodded. "More than a friend." She admitted.

He thought about this too. A tiny, bittersweet smile tickled the corner of his mouth, as he realized he was hearing the things that Dipper would once have longed to hear. "…A lover?" He asked.

"No… Yeah…" Wendy shrugged. "I mean yeah… No." She glanced at Stan, who'd had many shallow, fleeting lovers over the years. _No, not the way it means to you_. She thought. "No…" She said. "What's more than a lover?"

"…A brother?"

"What's more than a brother?"

"…Nothing's more than a brother."

"…Then he was my brother."

Stan pursed his lips, and decided to change the subject. "…You know…" He said. "When I lost my brother… When I let him fall through the portal, when it seemed like he was gone forever… That was somethin' else. That was when I remembered how much I loved him. How much I needed him. How much I missed him… And also when I realized how much I could do on my own, even without him; the sacrifices I was able to make, the things I was able to learn, and do, and say… I learned the lengths I could go to save him. There were 30 years in there… 30 years of hopelessness. 30 years staring at a broken machine, all alone, lying and stealing and putting on smiles and pouring over confusing old books. 30 years when all evidence and logical sense in the world told me he was gone forever, except I kept on trying… To believe like I did? To keep on hoping? To try and be his hero? That was a work of faith on its own…"

Wendy nodded, feeling these same things herself. "Why… Why did you keep that faith?"

"Well… I figured he couldn't be gone forever. And I _knew…_ I knew I still had a debt to pay to him. I knew I'd wounded him, that I'd let him down… I knew that that was my… Redemption…"

Wendy considered this for a minute in silence. Her eyes drifted to the ground, and it held their attention while she thought.

"Why… Why do I keep my faith…?" She asked out loud, even though nobody but her knew the answer.

Stan looked at her with a frown. He knew as well as anyone that her faith was probably empty; there was no point in hoping. Death was final. But she couldn't hear that; it would be too harsh. So instead he repeated her question back at her. "Why?"

"Why…" She echoed again. "Well…It's… It's funny… Well… No… No, it's not funny… But… But… Ooookay." She finally decided that she had to tell somebody. "There was one secret I kept from Dipper." She blurted. "We promised not to keep secrets from each other… But I told him there was one I had to keep, and he was okay with that, so I kept it."

"Oh really." Stan folded his arms.

"I… I guess there's no point keeping it a secret anymore, because now it isn't even true… Is it? I don't know… But… But can I tell you? Just don't tell anyone; especially not him, if we ever _do_ bring him back… I just need to tell somebody to make sure I'm not going CRAZY… Could you please keep this a secret?"

Stan nodded. "Sure."

Wendy hesitated one more time to gather her wits, then said:

"Time travel is a thing."

Stan nodded, confused but not necessarily surprised. "Ford mentioned that at one point." He admitted. "He ran into it here and there in his… Dimension-hoppin' days. Way I hear it, there's a few 'advanced civilizations' out there who've dabbled…"

"Yeah, well, news flash: mankind is one of them." Wendy told him. "And more than dabbled; a couple hundred thousand years in the future, it'll be borderline commonplace. Policed and regulated fiercely though, which I guess is why we don't see more of them around these times…"

"Great." Stan shrugged. "So time travel is a thing, but not anywhere close to yet. What does that have to do with—"

"I MET MYSELF." Wendy told him.

Stan frowned.

"It was last Fall." She explained. "After Dipper, Mabel, you and Stan 2 left… I was sitting in my room not doing my homework… And _she_ showed up. She was maybe 25… 30? I don't know… But she was a warrior of some kind apparently, had a suit of armor, some weapons, a funny cyborg eye doohickey, a time machine… But… But she was _ME_ , there was no mistaking it… She was chill, we were both like 'hey, how's it going?' or whatever; shared a soda… And then she gave me some advice on how to live my life; to apply myself in school, to love my family, defend the town, stop being lazy, never lose my integrity, never roll over for all the boyfriends I'd one day have… Basically she remembered the thoughts and the mistakes that I would one day make… And told me the things she remembered I'd need… And she's the reason I'm so deep into these adventures and mysteries and crap nowadays, she's the reason I've been doing better in school. Because that's the path to the life I know will one day make me happy and fulfilled… The… The day she showed up was one of the biggest days of my life…"

"Umm…" Stan scratched his head. "Not gonna lie, that's pretty weird…"

"But you believe me? It's not impossible?"

"Well… No, I mean… There's been weirder things around. But… But this super-secret-time-warrior-future chick; did she tell you that Dipper was gonna die? Or tell ya how to save him…? Or—"

" _NO._ " Wendy ran her hands through her hair. "No, that's the _weird_ part. _SHE DIDN'T_. In fact, you know what she _did_ say? You know why I hold on to faith right now? You know why I never told anybody about this ever? You know why this was the only secret I had to keep from Dipper? You know why I've been confused and divided and conflicted and determined for 7 months now?"

"…Why?"

"Because." She said. "Dipper's not really 'like a brother' to me. And he's not just my best friend either… Someday… Someday Dipper was gonna be my husband…"

* * *

About 50 feet back in the trees, something that looked just like an ordinary mountain lion had been crouching for the past half-hour, listening. Now its paws grew fingers, reached through a fold in its skin, and removed Robbie's phone. He shook the slime off it as quietly as he could, and opened a web browser. Then he googled 'time travel', and read briefly through an article. _So that's what's going on._ He thought. Then he googled 'husband', and read the definition. _So that's what that means._ He thought. _Well that's… Hilarious. And alarming. What's REALLY going on here…?_

He realized they were talking again.

"Shut up." Wendy was saying.

"I didn't say anything." Stan put his hands up.

"Yeah, but you're thinking it. You're smiling."

"I-! Hmm… Okay…" The old man scratched the grizzle on his chin to hide the smile he knew shouldn't be there. "What do I say here?"

"What do _you_ say? What do _I_ say? This isn't funny, it's weird! I'm not crazy, am I? Am I crazy? Why would I make this up? And why wouldn't it be true anymore? What happened?"

"I… Okay…" The old man gave it all as much thought as he could muster. "Okay… No, you're not crazy. I believe you… And no, I don't know anything else. I really don't know how time travel works." He admitted. "I don't know if we changed the future somehow, or if this is all a dream, or if _that_ was all a dream, or if that even _was_ you from the future, but…" He shrugged. "Is there a way to bring him back? For real and good? That's the real question, isn't it? A way that _doesn't_ involve flirting with ancient evil…? Something that doesn't just… Just make the pain longer and worse…? Heck if I know. But if he really means as much to you as you said… If you really believe you can do this thing, and really will do anything for him… Then… Then if there's a way, I've a hunch you're gonna find it. And… God help whatever stands in your way."

She made a noise with her nose, about halfway between a laugh and a scoff.

"Seems to me." Stan put a hand on her shoulder. "This is the part of the story where the world finds out who Wendy really is… And I think we're all looking forward to it."

She took a deep breath, and tried to smile. "Thanks…"

He gave her a pat, and turned away. "'Kay, hey, let's head on back then. McGucket will be here before too long, right? We've still got some bots to flatten today, and we can't keep your dad and his posse waiting."

"Yeah, yeah… Uh… I'll be with you in a minute…" She nodded.

Stan turned and started back toward the Shack, leaving Wendy staring at the last dying embers of Bill's pyre. Once he was out of sight, she walked over to a nearby tree, pulled out a knife, and began carving shapes into the trunk. _What were those, numbers?_ She seemed to have given the task all her attention.

 _Here we are, little girl._ The shapeshifter thought. _Alone in the middle of the forest. You have your back turned, and your brain preoccupied… I could kill you right now, it would be so easy._

 _Forget killing, I could HURT you. Disturb you. Torture you. Violate you. Your brain, your body, I could damage you however I pleased._

 _I could._

 _I should._

 _And if I weren't so curious… And if I didn't need what you know… I would. But I'm in no hurry._

He watched silently for a few seconds as she finished carving whatever those shapes were. Then she flipper her knife closed, and stood back, allowing the shifter to get a good look at them. Was that a time and date? Suddenly Wendy turned her face upwards. "IF I EVER BECOME A TIME-TRAVELER!" She announced to the skies, and pointed at the numbers. "I PROMISE I'LL COME BACK FROM THE FUTURE TO _RIGHT NOW_ , 11:03 AM, JUNE 12, 2013."

He looked at her for a few seconds, startled.

Then Wendy looked left. The shifter looked left too. There was nobody there.

Then they both looked right. There was nobody there.

Behind, in front, up, down…

They didn't see anyone or anything. They waited a minute or so…

 _But nobody came._

A single silent tear glinted in the light as it rolled down Wendy's cheek.

 _Well._ The shifter thought. _I suppose that answers that question. Yes, something changed, indeed. Your plans, your dreams, your precious little friend… Everything concrete in your life really IS dead for good, isn't it? And now… It seems without your partner, without your hero… You have nobody left to lean on. You're so weak… Oh, I want to lord it over you…_

 _Such a shame I still need you…_

 _But not for long… Not for long…_

Wendy turned and started back into the trees toward the Shack. The shifter decided he had other business too, and started back toward Robbie's van.

And when they were both out of sight, the dark figure crouching high in the branches disappeared in a flash of blue light.

* * *

 _Ow, that hurt._

Dipper didn't wake up, because he was already awake.

He didn't open his eyes, because they were already open.

He didn't stand up, because he was already standing.

It's strange; he hadn't feel any sort of lapse or discontinuity at all, yet he'd been lying down, hadn't he? Something had been wrong with his body, and the pain had been incredible, and he'd been lying down. But now, an unmeasurably long instant later, he was just standing…

 _Hey I don't hurt anymore._ He realized.

But… Wait _… Wait, what happened? Why aren't I itchy? And why can't I remember?_

He tried to move, but he didn't move… He tried to close his eyes, but couldn't… He tried to speak but… _Why can't I feel my tongue?_

It's true, his own body seemed to be missing entirely. And he was left here, staring ahead, all alone… Wait… He couldn't seem to remember much, but shouldn't someone be here with him…? Somebody… _WENDY! Where's Wendy? Wendy was here with me, just a second ago! I need Wendy. I like Wendy. Wendy is nice. Wendy is pretty. Wendy knows how to solve problems. Wendy is never afraid. Wendy. I need Wendy. Where's Wendy?_

He looked around.

He appeared to be in some kind of forest, deep beneath the overhanging shadows of the Pines. In fact, it wasn't dissimilar to the woods of Gravity Falls; that familiar, wild environment wherein he felt most at home in this world. He didn't see any buildings around, though now that he looked, there did seem to be some kind of hatches and doors built and hidden into the landscape; in hollows in the trees, in the gaps between roots, beneath bushes on the forest floor. Quite a lot of hatches… That was his first hint.

But the world was also grey, perfectly grey. The shadows were deep, the light was uncertain, even flickering, and everything bore the unmistakable marks of decay and neglect. But it was all grey; not even a hint of color… That was his second hint.

 _Oh…_ He put it together. _This is the mindscape. When we were in Stan's mind, it took the form of his home, with memories locked behind creaky wooden doors. This takes the form of my home… Or at least, the place I loved the most… With memories sealed beneath shadowy hatches, deep in the forest… Somehow, I must be inside my own mind…_

 _What happened? Why am I here? Is Bill around? Does he have something to do with this? I thought he was dead. Who put me here? And why can't I remember what happened? Is there anyone else here? Wendy!_

In answer to his questions, loud, omnipresent words suddenly echoed through the trees. The words had no voice, no form or language. As if the words had not been spoken at all, but rather their meaning had been typed, or carved, directly into the material of his brain. The words said:

 _-INPUT: This is a test. Can you receive and respond to stimulus?_

Dipper found he couldn't speak. _Huh?_ He thought. _What does that mean? Who is that? What 'stimulus'?_

 _-INPUT: Think about the color purple._

 _Huh? Why would I think of the color purple?_ He wondered. _Many pretty flowers are purple. Purple lightsabers are cool. Pacifica wears a purple dress. Purple lightsabers are REALLY cool. But Wendy wears green. Her hair is not green. Also trees are green. There are no green flowers. Why aren't there any green flowers? I guess it makes sense that there are no green flowers; the bright colors are for bees to locate them. How would they locate a flower that blends in, huh? All the green flowers would die out…_

 _-INPUT: You appear to be thinking almost normally. Are you capable of memory and learning?_

 _What's this loon talking about?_

 _-INPUT: Try to remember this phrase: the ball is yellow._

 _Which ball are we talking about? Everything here is grey, and I don't see a ball._

 _-INPUT: To demonstrate that you can learn, repeat the phrase back to me._

 _I can't really talk, so how am I supposed to repeat? Wait, was the ball red or yellow? It seems like red is the most likely primary color for a ball to be. Unless they're tennis balls, or the Pixar thing with the lamps._

 _-INPUT: Good enough, I suppose._

 _Wait a minute, somebody's reading my mind! The words are responding to my thoughts!_

 _-INPUT: That is astute. Now, can you remember your name and other basic information?_

 _My name…? Uh… My name is Pine Tree something… Dipper! Yeah, Dipper… Dipper Pine Tree. Right? Man, that's a stupid name. Did my parents just hate me or something? A dipper is an old-timey ladle for serving soup. They call me dipstick when they want to be mean._

 _-INPUT: Can you recall your real name, your current city and state of residence, and your sister's hair color?_

 _Her hair was reddish-pink… But it changed from week to week. She was always knitting new hair. And I'm in California of course. Gravity Falls, California._

 _-INPUT: What is your REAL name?_

 _Dipper…_

 _-INPUT: The decay is extremely severe…_

 _Decay?_ Dipper glanced around his mindscape, suddenly worried at the implication of that word. And he saw craters in the ground, gaping beneath splintered, fallen trees. Hatches and doors shattered off their hinges, or buried in rockslide. Words and labels and maps blurred or burned or defaced. And he realized he was looking at a place of utter ruin. _This is my brain… Good grief, has it always been like this? What memories are lying there smashed? What pathways are now unwalkable…?_

 _I used to be the smart one…_

 _If I'm not the smart one, who am I…?_

 _-INPUT: Do you feel ready to understand complex ideas?_

 _Complex ideas? Well… I don't know, look at this place… Does this mean I need to go back to kindergarten? Am I retarded now? Wait, if this thing is reading my thoughts, did it hear that? And that? It did! It's hearing everything I think! This is creepy! I can't think about embarrassing things like Wendy! Wendy is nice. Wendy is pretty. Where's Wendy? Is Wendy the one reading my mind? Wendy is pretty. Oh no! Is Mabel the one reading my mind? If that's Mabel, then no matter what I do, I cannot think about dead kittens. Dead kittens are pretty sad. Almost as sad as dead puppies. Ooh yeah, can't think about dead puppies…_

 _-INPUT: This is your Great Uncle Ford, and you deserve an explanation._

 _-INPUT: You died, Dipper. You died in battle defending Wendy Corduroy. I recovered your body before it underwent cell death, and used the brain scanner in my study to make a backup copy of your consciousness. I didn't tell anybody besides Stan for fear of raising false hope, and neither of us were optimistic. And… Honestly, my plans didn't go further than that; than maintaining a copy. I'm not sure where to go from here. And seeing as how the copy is only partial, and how rapidly it decays, I doubt I can go very far._

 _-INPUT: You did not perceive any passage of time between your death and now because I did not have a computer powerful enough to accommodate a living mind._

 _-INPUT: However, I found a temporary solution in the form of your sister. She is currently in a coma in the lab, and her brain is being used to host both of your minds. She is thinking for both of you. However, she is only thinking a fraction as fast under the load; already half an hour has elapsed since I began since you 'awoke'._

 _-INPUT: Your sister has been extremely troubled since your death, and Stanley brought her to me hoping I could heal her or cheer her up. That is the only reason you've been activated at this point. After I uninstall you from her mind and deactivate her coma, you will not remember any of this, although she will._

 _-INPUT: Do you comprehend all this information?_

It took a little while, and it put some stress on the borrowed corners of Mabel's mind, but Dipper did slowly 'comprehend' the situation. Evidently, Ford saw when he'd finished his understanding.

 _-INPUT: Good. Now, there's somebody who wants to see you. I'll leave you two alone._

In the corner of his eye, he saw something that wasn't grey. Something colorful, picking its way towards him through the rubble. Something with a reddish-pink sweater, and _brown_ hair. "D… Dipper?"

 _…Mabel?_

* * *

"And you brought this WHY?"

"Wull…" McGucket fished his own mind for an adequate explanation. "We gave all them magnet guns ta Dan's posse, so I gist thought we might need somethin' if we ran into some 'drones' or somesuch down there… An I just built this, so I figured we could give it a go!"

"Well, yeah!" Stan shrugged. "But how far are we planning on carrying this? It's like the size of my…!"

"Is that the 'plasma beam' you mentioned?" Wendy came walking up.

"Ye reckon straight!" McGucket's robo-pants whirred and clattered as he did a little jig, the massive sci-fi weapon cradled in his arms. "Yeh, it uses these here magnetic containment thingums ta fire a six-million-degree trickle of deuterium-helium hogwash a few micrograms at a go! Got an effective range of 50 meters, half-meter penetration capability into all types of material and armor, as well as tank capacity for 200 some-odd shots, and it even hambones yeh a tune while it charges!" He pressed a button and the weapon began to emit a country song from an onboard record player.

"…Is it also a sword?" Wendy guessed.

He pressed another button and a large blade extended from the bottom. The record player skipped to an anime theme song.

"Eeeyagh! How'd that get on there…" He hastily turned off the music.

"And you're sure this can take out the alien drone things?" Stan clarified.

"Aww, it'll punch right through 'em, surefire. The thermal expansion strain from even a near miss oughta be enough to crack their outer shells… I designed it with the robot lions in mind, but in retrospect it's a little ungainly…"

"…How fast can it fire?"

"Fast as ya can pull the trigger. Or until it overheats."

"And that takes how long?"

"40 seconds or 3 shots, whichever comes first. Then it needs a 150-second cooldown cycle."

"3 shots." Stan clarified.

"Yep."

"3."

"Right tootin'."

Stan rubbed his temple. "Well, fine then. You can carry that huge thing if you want, but _I'll_ be hauling some good ol' fashioned ray guns." He patted his bulging pockets. "You want one, Wendy?"

She took two. "And Ford isn't coming?" She clarified.

"Can't. He's… He's got work ta do. Plus he's lookin' after my _other_ great neice…"

She shot him a glare that promised to carve out his kidney stones with a belt sander if he mentioned it again.

Somewhere in the middle of all this, an edgy, gothic van came rolling up the driveway behind them. As Wendy tucked Ford's blasters into her belt, she glanced over her shoulder. "Ugh." She sighed when she recognized the vehicle. "I'll deal with this, guys…"

She met Robbie face-to-face before he'd even made it around from the driver-side. His slouching lope came to an abrupt stop when she demanded. "What are you doing here, dude?"

"Well, I just, like…" He looked almost as confused as he did sour. "I wanted to help…?"

"We're fine, dude. Plus it's kind of top-secret what we're doing, so…"

"Well, I'm, like, prepared!" His slouch straightened just slightly, as he gestured to a weapon across his back. "I've got a sawed-off shotgun, some gnarly knives, a van, a skateboard…?"

"We're fine." She repeated. "We don't really need… We're fine… And hey, how did you even know we're doing anything at all? This is kind of secret…"

"Well, I wanted to go with your dad's gang out to the forest, but your dad doesn't really like me, so I didn't ask… And I didn't see you with them so I thought I'd come here to… You know. What are you doing? I can totally keep a secret, I promise…! Like, I kept Tambry's secret!"

"What's Tambry's secret?"

"Ha ha. Nice try."

Wendy glared at him for a moment. "Why?" She asked.

He was taken off-guard. "Well… Whaddaya mean?"

"Why are you so dead-set on coming with someone? To do something? What does it matter to you?"

"Well… Well, everyone wants to help… And… Especially after what happened, I just felt like I should—"

"Ooh-HOO, after what _happened_ , huh? Yeah?" She challenged him. "You wanna tell me you're sorry he died?" She stuck a finger in his face. "You wanna tell me he was a good man, that he died a hero, and that it's really such a shame, and all that? It would be a nice gesture from anybody else, but from you, it's dishonest! I'm dealing with _so much_ crap right now… _All of us, all of this_ , everything we're doing, it's _all for him!_ So a little _sympathy_ from his _personal nemesis_ , a little _kind word from you_ , that's the last thing I need… Just… Just leave…"

Robbie hesitated for a moment, and his eyes fell, for he knew all this was true. "…But…" He set his jaw, seemed to draw some kind of determination, and tried again. "What if I said I was sorry?" He growled, as if angry at nobody in particular. "Not just 'sorry' as in 'man, that sucks, sorry', but 'sorry' as in 'I… I seriously boned it… And I know it. Through the year I've known him, and the years I've known you, all I've done is just mess up and I haven't given you or him the respect you deserve, and… And… I could have been there for you guys. At any point I could have. But I didn't… So… So I'd do, like, do anything to make it up… I'm just… This is my chance to prove I'm not a loser. Like… Redemption, right? …I'm just sorry."

Wendy understood that much.

She sighed and glanced at the other 2 men. McGucket shrugged. Stan glowered for a minute then shook his head. "My vote says scram… But you know him best."

Wendy turned back to Robbie and glared. _Ugh… Robbie…_ She sighed to herself. _Why the heck did you have to get wrapped up in this? You're the one person I DON'T want getting underfoot… But…_

 _But he's just trying to help. He said he's sorry for what he's done, and… He wants to clear his name. In my sight, and in Dipper's posthumously. He's seeking honor. Seeking redemption. Who am I to keep him from that? We all want redemption. We've all done countless wrong things that we long to repay for._

 _Perhaps he and I are in this for the same reasons. We want to prove ourselves. We want to cry out to the world that we're not screw-ups. We want to become like Dipper: Somebody worthy of… Love._

 _But I've got a weird feeling in my gut that tells me he doesn't really mean it. When I look deep into his eyes, something seems off, just slightly… There's something here I should be paranoid about, but I have no clue what it is…_

 _Something's not being said here._

For a while after, Wendy wondered if she would regret saying "Sure. Fine."


	22. Irredeemable

_Author's Note:_

Somebody in the reviews suggested I update this fiction from K+ (which is basically equivalent to PG, good for anybody above maybe 8) to T (which is essentially PG-13, good for anybody over 13). After consideration, and after writing this chapter, I'm going to tentatively admit that he's right, and update it to T.

It's not a huge jump, and it doesn't change anything but a single letter, and I don't expect my ordinary readership to change even a wink, but I still think it's significant. It means that things can and do happen. Dark things. Bloody things. Somewhat adult things. And while I always meant it to be just a rocking adventure, and it still is, that adventure has now evolved into something ever-so-slightly more intense, and I felt like I should admit that to myself and you. However, I do NOT intend on exercising the T rating to its limit. There will be absolutely no cussing here, and absolutely no vulgarity or profanity or explicit material. Adult content will be kept light and light-hearted, just enough so that us adults can laugh and make fools of ourselves while the kids go 'wait, what? nvm, don't care.'

Come to think of it, that's how the show itself worked.

Basically: The adventure continues, but as you scroll down, a faint chill travels down your spine…

* * *

 _Another Author's Note:_

Also, my 12-year-old sister Autumn reads this fanfiction. And she's consistently mad at me for leaving her on cliffhangers for weeks at a time; she's told me as much in person and in reviews. So, I just have to say this up front:

Please don't hit me, Autumn!

* * *

Wendy and Robbie reached the top of the hill first, while Stan and McGucket's old legs struggled to keep up. "So…" Robbie scratched his head and looked around when Wendy came to a stop. "Like, what are we doing here?"

"Ugh." Wendy sighed. "I guess this is the part of the tradition where I act needlessly cryptic while you put it all together for yourself, huh…? Kay, see those weird cliffs over there?"

"Yeah?"

"Yeah, and now we're at the top of a circular hill…"

"Yeah…?" Robbie looked around for a few seconds. Then, faster than Wendy expected, his brain connected the puzzle pieces. His jaw dropped and his eyes bulged. "Wha… OOOOOOH… Duuuuuude…"

Wendy bent down, wrapped her arms under a large rock, and levered it off to the side, revealing the smooth titanium hatch leading straight down into the Earth. "Consider yourself educated." She grunted.

"Whaa… So… So like… So like there's acutally aliens…?!" Robbie demanded. "Like, literal, actual aliens?"

"They're all dead." Wendy answered, as she tried to fit her fingers into the seam around the hatch. "Every last one; dead…" Her fingers weren't small enough to get a grip in there. "Urgh… Dang it! My kingdom for a magnet gun…"

"Uh… Here. I got this…" Robbie bent down beside her, and stuck his own fingers into the gap. His were able to fit somehow, and together they lifted the hatch open.

The deep, black, shadowy pit of the triangular vent yawned open below them, promising mystery, danger, and rumors of ancient horror for any who might brave it. Wendy started down the ladder without a second thought, pausing only briefly to slip on a headlamp. Robbie was wearing a headlamp too all of a sudden, and he followed her more hesitantly, just as Stan and McGucket came over the rise.

Stan's half-hearted request to "Hey, wait up!" caused him to hesitate one more time, but Wendy was getting further ahead, and he didn't want to lose track of her. Stan's sigh of "Ugh… Kids…" Echoed down the shaft after them, fading in volume with the light.

Down they went.

It was just as dark, wet, and creepy as Wendy remembered. The rugged tendrils of Earthly tree roots seemed out of place among the smooth curves and hard seams of the aged metal. The blackness extended as far as the illumination of their headlamps would reach, interrupted only rarely by a stray beam of sunlight from above, shining down through cracks in the damaged dorsal hull. The faint, ghastly echoes of their movements and breathing whispered back at them from the distance. And now, more than ever, Wendy felt like she was being watched. But none of it held her attention for long. Sure, 'aliens' once held a kind of wonder, but that magic was long dead.

For now, there was only the mission. She pulled out Dipper's journal, and turned to a page he'd put down after their last adventure down here: a map of the wreck. According to it, their destination should be somewhere straight below…

For Robbie, of course, the magic of this place was only just getting started. And he wondered with great anticipation what other secrets the ancient tomb had to offer.

Stan and McGucket caught up to them near the bottom of the ladder, and together the party descended ever deeper, toward the control room at the center of the ship.

* * *

 _-Warning: 4 unknown intruders registered in crucial engineering sector._

 _-Drones 154 and 155 respond._

The security system became active. The red lights of two armed security drones winked to life deep in the ship, and their spherical bodies hovered off the ground.

Normal programs were very strict for dealing with those who would tamper with the ship. When unauthorized personnel attempted to access any crucial area, procedure dictates they be treated with extreme hostility. If the intruders were sentient, capture and containment was priority. If the intruders were non-sentient or overly hostile, termination was permissible.

 _-Hostility and threat assessment programs running._

 _-Following program 003: Drones 154 and 155 move to intercept and analyze._

They began to make for the center of the ship.

 _-Warning: System error!_

 _-Warning: System error!_

For some reason, they stopped, and approached no further. Because long ago, their security officer had installed another program in their mainframe. This program told them that the reactor control room was a very special case. If intruders ever breached _this_ room, they were to follow an alternative procedure.

 _-Following program +8*%_!3/e^){nB-_: Stand by, observe, and await instruction._

 _-Drones 154 and 155 standing by._

* * *

The control room's blast doors creaked upon stiffly, and the musty smell of ancient death puffed out of the seam. Unfazed, Wendy and Stan put their fingers into the crack and levered it even farther open; now wide enough to walk through. The beams of their lights swept the room's interior, illuminating the hundreds of high-tech controls, consoles and screens. But Robbie had expected all that. What he hadn't expected were the dozen semi-squid-like alien bodies, lying crusty and mummified across the floor in various position of pain. And he hadn't expected the graffiti either; insane scribblings of alien madness scrawled across the walls in odd-colored blood.

"WOOOAH…" He blinked in a radical sort of way. "Duuuuuude…"

Stan and Wendy stepped boldly through the door without a hint of fear, leaving Robbie standing with McGucket.

"It's harmless…" The inventor muttered. "Nothin' in there that kin hurt ya… What killed em all is long gone…"

Robbie looked at him. "Well, yeah, I could guess that much, but—"

"Harmless." McGucket repeated again, and Robbie realized that he was talking to himself. "Just death… Folks die all the time… What killed 'ese fellers is dead. What killed 'em is dead… And their madness died with 'em… the madness died with 'em… It's okay…" The old man finally convinced himself, and took one hesitant step through the doors. "It's okay…"

Robbie peaked in after the other 3, unsure whether he should be wary or not. "Hey, uh… Like… What the heck happened in here?" He gestured to the bodies. "Who are these things?"

"The ship's engineers…" McGucket answered. "Murdered after a cruelest fashion…"

"Got nuked." Stan stated simply.

Wendy felt he needed a better explanation than that. "Okay, so like…" Her mind drifted back to her and Dipper's adventure down in this wreck. They'd probed around this room out of curiosity, and happened to find the journal of the last sane engineer… Was it really only 6 days ago? "They locked themselves in here during the crash." She explained. "When the rest of the ship was going nuclear, they sealed the doors to stay safe… And, uh… I guess… Okay, the engine of the ship was going all screwy, tearing up reality or somesuch." She pointed to the scrawled words on the walls. "They started to lose their sanity, their grip on reality, even began to see into the future I guess… I'm not sure how much of it was Bill Cipher's doing, but he was there too. He got into their dreams, brains, sanity… And he tore their minds apart… And… The last sane engineer, _that guy_ …" She pointed. "I guess he was working on a modification to contain Bill's weirdness… And then he lost it. He opened the door, and the radiation from the rest of the ship cooked them all alive… Sterilized them too, which is why they never rotted… And now here we are."

"Oh…" Robbie frowned. "So… But you killed 'Bill', right? So this is all, like, literally perfectly harmless in every way now?"

"Yep." Stan nodded.

"I guess." Wendy shrugged.

"So…" Robbie pointed a thumb at McGucket, whose eyes were darting about, and whose hand seemed to be nervously seeking out the handle of his death ray. "What's he on about?"

"Oh, heh…" McGucket immediately let go of the death ray when he realized how he must seem. "You know me… Just… Just a tad superstitious is all… Heh… Eh… Sorry…"

"Hey." Wendy put a hand on his shoulder. "We're all on edge. Just get the computer running, man…" She gave him a pat. "Then we can blow this pop stand. Yeah?"

"Yeh…" He seemed to regain some measure of confidence as he remembered their mission, and managed to tear his eyes away from the bodies long enough to make it to the main console on the other side of the room. From there, he leaned the death ray against a wall, and fished a small library of tools out of his overalls. Once his hands were wrapped around the familiar screwdriver and soldering gun, they steadied. "Okay, uh… Ya still got that computatraption on ya?"

"Yeah…" Wendy unslung her backpack, and pulled out the power control coupling.

"Kay, ya wanna get that installed while I start in on this?" He pointed to a loose panel on the wall. "If my reckoning of the pipelines and wiring is proper, it should go somewhere right in there…"

The other 3 managed to roll the panel aside, and sure enough, there was a series of 8 slots behind it, each shaped exactly like the device Wendy carried. 7 of the slots were blocked with the destroyed pieces of burned-out older ones, but the last slot was empty.

The coupling fit perfectly.

To one side of McGucket's console, a single small green light flickered on.

"Wull, I'll be a horn-swaggled boilerplate, I think we can get it runnin!" He laughed once, then caught himself. "This… I… Sorry, it's just… This… This woula been a happy day…"

"How long you need?"

"Eh…" McGucket fished out a beefy computer, and plugged it into the console. A few more green lights turned on, and he began to type. "Gimme two hours?"

* * *

 _-Warning: Intruders have lifted the pre-ignition safety locks on reactor 5 without authorization._

The drones were programmed with a very particular set of skills: containing escaped test subjects, breaking up fights between passengers, defending restricted areas, pacifying external dangers, that sort of thing. Their entire minds were devoted toward threat assessment and combat.

But here was something else: the intruders actually appeared to be _fixing_ the ship's last remaining reactor. This type of situation was considerably outside the range of what they knew how to think about. There were absolutely no pre-programmed procedures for dealing with _beneficial_ intruders.

The drones may not be very smart, but they were smart enough to know when they weren't smart enough. _-Warning: Directive unclear. Living officer, please advise._ They requested.

But of course, the security officer had been dead for a long time now. A very long time. Their inquiries hadn't received response for ages and ages… But they didn't question that. They didn't have the capacity to understand that. As far as they knew, their overseer was simply in the restroom or sleeping or something.

So they didn't question it either when, for the first time in millennia, this very same overseer suddenly started giving them input again.

 _-Input: Stand by at long range and do not engage._ Was the command. _-Analyze the intruders' biology and search for deviant life signs. Do not consider hostile until instructed._

 _-Directive accepted. Awaiting further input._

 _-Input: Display sensor feed on my monitor._

 _-Sensor feed linked. Awaiting further input._

 _-Input: That's all for now._

 _-Drones 154, 155, 157 and 158 standing by. Welcome back, Lieutenant._

* * *

Two hours was a long time to wait when you're on-edge, and even longer when you're standing still in one place.

Twenty minutes in, they found themselves already bored.

Stan was asleep on one of the alien seats, a magazine propped up on his lap.

McGucket, who had no seat nearby and still had work to do, pressed a button on his robotic trousers to lock himself in an upright pose. His quiet hummed song joined Stan's snoring as the only sounds in the room.

Wendy, still too restless to sit, just leaned back against a wall and stared at the insane alien graffiti. These words which once told the future… She wanted to read again what they said.

Robbie was even more restless than her. He wasn't quite sure what to do while he waited, so he curiously broke the head off one of the dead bodies and began to examine it. It had three eyes, a sideways opening mouth… The mummified skin was thin and crusted, but must have once had the form of flexible scales… Fascinating. He smacked the skull against a wall, hoping to break it open to see what might be hidden inside.

"HEY!" Wendy noticed what he was doing, and barked in his direction.

He froze.

"Look, just…" She sighed, shrugged, motioned for him to set the head down. "Hey man, just a little respect, huh?"

"Right, right, yeah…" He set it down hastily. But then he thought about her comment for a moment, and frowned. "Wait, respect?" He asked. "What, for _him?_ "

"For all of them. Dude." Wendy spread her arms. "People _died_ here, okay? Just… You know."

"The work they did here kept Weirdmageddon from goin' global…" McGucket muttered over his shoulder. "They's heroes in their kind…"

"Well, sure, good for them." Robbie shrugged. "But they weren't doing it for _you_ , they were probably just trying to save their own skins! And did a mighty fine job of it too… Look at these suckers!"

"Hey man, look—"

"What?" Robbie asked. "So they tried to save themselves, went hilariously mad, then killed themselves and _accidentally, randomly, unforeseeably,_ did a favor for _you_ a couple thousand years later… So what? They're all just dead now, so who cares? I mean… They're not even people, they're just… lanky squid-type things." He gave the detached head a spiteful little kick, and it rolled off. "Who cares?" He repeated.

Wendy and McGucket stared at him for a minute. McGucket subtly crossed himself as he turned back to his computer. Wendy shrugged and folded her arms.

Robbie put his hands on his hips. "What?" He asked again.

"Look…" Wendy told him. "If I've learned anything this past week, it's that aliens are just folks… Sure, they may have tentacles or three eyes or scales or… Or they might have metal skin or might've grown up on some asteroid a dozen galaxies away, but in the end… They're still just folks… These guys…" She spread her arms. "They probably had wives, or… Or parents, or kids, or… Eggs, or whatever the heck, I don't know… But there were friends, family, people who cared about them. They died right in the middle of their hopes and dreams, they still had their souls… Somebody on some asteroid a dozen galaxies away still missed them… Somebody waited every day for them to come back except they didn't. Somebody wished they'd never left except they did…. Somebody loved them. They're not monsters. They're not aliens… They're just… People…"

Robbie frowned.

As if this idea were entirely new to him. As if it made him think.

Wendy turned back to the graffiti.

McGucket kept typing.

Stan kept Snoring.

Robbie spoke up again. "You ever met an alien?"

Wendy nodded. "Betty and Barney. Well… We called them Betty and Barney. Dunno how to pronounce their real names… But they were the farmers responsible for the Forest of Daggers, and we met their ghosts. They were pretty decent actually. Didn't try to haunt us, even though they could've… Didn't try to kill us, although they could've tried… Didn't have to help us escape, but I think they did… I dunno." She opened Dipper's journal to a sketch he'd made of the two specters, and showed it at Robbie. "These were them… Good people."

He took the book gently, and studied the faces. They looked monstrous, to be sure. Mouths full of razor-sharp saws, haunting, ghostly electric eyes, and nightmarish metallic skeletons floating in the air… Yet she said they were decent people. She said they were just folks. Dead folks. Loved folks… Even friendly to the organic living… They had names… They were… Friends…

Robbie closed the book and handed it back to her.

They were silent for a few moments more.

Then Robbie stood up, flipped his headlamp back on, and made for the door.

"Where you going?" She asked.

"I dunno…" He shrugged restlessly. "Just wanna look around. Wanna get out of here."

She glanced back at McGucket, standing next to Stan's sleeping form. _They can handle themselves._ Wendy thought. And she looked at the alien bodies. "Yeah. Me too." She stood up and started after him. "And it's dumb to go alone anyway…"

"Right…"

* * *

 _-Completed scan of intruders._ The drones reported back. _4 bioforms, all carbon-based, aerobic, terrestrial vertebrates. Species unknown. Speed and strength moderate. Weaponry and defensive capabilities unknown. Bioform 1 is recognized from previous intrusion; threat level 16, high. Other threat levels unknown._

 _-Input: Do any of the intruders display abnormalities?_

 _-Bioform 2 possesses an alternative body chemistry including: slightly adjusted air and fluid handling cycles, no adrenaline and other ordinary biological markers, and inconclusive bone density. Awaiting further input._

 _-Input: I want drone 154 to lock its sensors on bioform 2. Give me control of drone 154's basic movement controls._

 _-Controls linked. Awaiting further input._

 _-Input: That will be all._

 _-Drones 154, 155, 157, 158, 163, and 164 standing by._

* * *

"Robbie…? Hey, your brain broke or what?" His eyes seemed to be fixed on the far wall of the vast engine room, as if mesmerized or perplexed by something. She snapped her fingers in front of his face to bring him out of his daze.

"Oh, uh…" He shook his head and turned back to her. "Yeah, sorry, I just, like… Sorry. Just spaced out for a minute…"

She looked where he'd been staring a moment ago, but couldn't make out anything except perfect blackness in the distance. "Did ya see something?"

"I don't know… What's over that way anyway?"

"Uh…" She pulled Dipper's journal back out, and opened it to the incomplete map he'd made of the wreck. "Uh… I don't think we've ever been below the cargo level…" She studied the map. "But from this, it looks like there's probably a ramp on that side leading down… So I think it's new territory. Not sure."

He thought for a moment longer. "Could we check it out?"

"Why?"

"Like… I dunno… It's cool?"

"Why is it cool?"

"I dunno! Like…! I dunno, if we've never been down there we should probably just check it out, right?"

She blinked. "You totally saw something."

"I don't know…" He repeated. "It's dark…"

"That's so…" She checked her backpack: an axe, a crowbar, a list of handy spells, some snacks… She was ready as she ever would be. "All right, fine. We'll go. HEY MCGUCKET!"

"Eh?"

"Robbie saw something toward the SouthEast side, so we're gonna go exploring, okay? Looks to be further underground."

"Eh… I dunno… How long you be gone?"

"Hour and a half? Before you're through with that. If we're not, wake Stan and call Ford."

"All right… Uh… Be careful an' stuff… We don't know what all's down here."

"We kinda do…" Wendy mumbled.

So they set out, picking their way across and between the miscellaneous machinery of the engine room. Eventually a large, tall wall loomed up before them, unclimbable and impassable save for a pair of blast doors standing at the bottom. They were open just about wide enough for a security drone.

Wendy squeezed through first, Robbie followed, and they found themselves at the top of a long passageway, gently curving deeper into the blackness ahead. Wendy checked the map and saw nothing; they really were in uncharted territory now. Hesitantly, she returned the journal to her pack as they started their descent.

"So…" Maybe 5 minutes later, Robbie broke the silence again. "You said everything down here is dead, right?"

"Huh? Oh yeah…" Wendy nodded. "Well, 'cept for the drones, a'course."

"The what now?"

"Don't worry; they're stupid. If you don't feel fear they'll just ignore ya. And if they don't, you can just shoot 'em… Don't let 'em grab you though."

"Okay… Yeah, but… But I was talking about aliens… You're _sure_ nothing survived the crash? Like, those engineers all died _after_ the fact, and whoever 'Betty and Barney' were, they lived long enough to do their thing… Like… It seems totally bogus that _everything_ died…"

"Yeah… There were a few survivors." Wendy admitted. "But they were picked off. Hunted down and killed one by one."

"…All of them?"

"To a man."

"…By what?"

"A shapeshifter." Wendy recognized how scary that probably sounded, and explained. "Okay, so, this, uh… Let's see, this ship was an explorer, like Christopher Columbus, right? And it was exploring planets all over the galaxy, collecting specimens and junk like that… Well, just like Christopher Columbus, their Captain was a grade-A sack of crap. Didn't care whether the 'test subjects' were intelligent or dangerous or whatnot, he just kept doing his thing, trying to use them for his own purposes… Well, it kinda blew up in his face after the crash, because this one test subject, this shapeshifter, got free. And she was real mad because of all the things they'd done to her, and she was also really, really smart I guess. She hacked the security system, took control of the drones, and killed everyone left. Kinda… I guess I kinda get it, but still. A lot of innocent people died."

Robbie considered this for a while, a strange look on his face. "Oh." He finally said.

They kept walking.

When the tunnel forked, Robbie suggested they take the small passage to the left, but Wendy said they may as well follow the larger route to whatever end it held. Robbie reluctantly agreed.

Turns out, that end was water. Wendy supposed they _were_ underground, and not too far from a lake, so some flooding made sense.

The surface was utterly dark and filthy; bits and scraps of decayed wreckage stood on top of the miry surface, and a smell like an ancient, rusty swamp wafted from it; a reek quite unlike anything they might have imagined before. It made sense; this water hadn't moved in thousands of years, just stood there, stagnant, while the metal hull slowly rusted, and whatever growth could manage grew and died on the sparse nutrients. Was this earthly life, trapped down here in this isolated bog? Or was it some plant, fungus, or foul contamination from worlds away, carried within the ship's own stores?

Who knows. Needless to say, they wouldn't be swimming.

So they turned around and trekked back up the tunnel to the fork Robbie had first suggested. It seemed to Wendy like as good an option as any.

This tunnel was narrower, and branched off into many rooms and passages. Some of the doors were locked; others were rusted shut, others opened into flooded chambers, and the rest stocked equipment or furniture decayed beyond recognition.

Nothing of interest. They continued down the tunnel. Neither of them were really sure where they were going or what they were looking for, but at least they weren't lost. The hallway was basically straight, and wider than the surrounding passages, so as long as they stayed close to it, they would always have their sense of direction.

But the tunnel ended, as all tunnels do. Toward the end, it seemed to flatten; the metal was buckled and bent, and seemed to have been collapsed _upwards_ …

"What caused this?" Robbie frowned.

Wendy thought. "Oh." She realized. "We're down at the bottom of the ship. This is the part that was crushed when it hit the ground."

"Ah."

Wendy shrugged. "So… Where are we going, man? What are we even _doing_ here? I mean, you thought you saw something, but we didn't find anything. You happy?"

"Well…" Robbie looked around. All the ship seemed perfectly silent for a moment. "Have…" He stuttered, as if something very large were on the tip of his tongue, but he didn't know how to let it out or if he should. "You ever had weird dreams, Wendy?" He blurted.

Wendy blinked. "Weird dreams. Whoever heard of such a thing."

"W-w-well yeah, I know, like…" He stuttered. "I know all dreams are weird, but have you ever seen like, something totally bogus and crazy and it totally sticks with you because I don't know?"

"Elaborate."

"Like… I don't know… Like somebody else's dream? Have you ever dreamed somebody else's dream? Like… Like if things turned out different, and your life didn't look like it did, then you might have seen what you saw… But you can never quite remember, and you know it's not a real memory, but it just sticks with you? Like… Somebody's been in your head…?"

"Well _that_ was just _needlessly_ cryptic." Wendy informed him. "I have literally no idea what you're talking about."

"It's… It's just…" Robbie ran his hands through his hair, and seemed much more focused and alert than he usually did. His headlamp beam swept the walls. "It's just that I, like, _totally_ remember this hallway!"

Wendy looked around. It didn't look like any hallway she'd ever seen. Like any hallway that had ever existed in the human world. She looked back at him. "Did you see it in a movie or a video game or something?" She guessed.

"No, no, I mean… Not the colors or the feel, but the exact _shape…_ That collapsed bit there just _clicks_ somehow… Even this little seam in the floor right here… And I think _this door_ leads to a side passage that goes deeper…!" He walked over to a random, unassuming hatch, and gave it a push. Surprisingly, it wasn't rusted shut, and eased slowly open. "Does that make any sense?"

Wendy frowned at the door for several seconds. Then frowned at him for several seconds. "…Do you 'remember' what's back there?" She asked.

He shook his head.

"…Well…" She shrugged. "I've seen flying eyeballs turn people to stone. I've seen kids magically cloning themselves. I've seen Soos with a pig's brain. I've seen alien robot ghosts." She pulled out McGucket's ray gun, gave the hallway behind them a quick check, then nodded toward the open door. "After all that, _this_ ain't so weird. Lead the way, o prophet."

This new way was small and cramped. A veritable maze of twisted metal, snaking below and between walls, through the cracks between separated panels and severed pipes, the one single path through this wreckage of the vessel's lower reaches. There was room enough for a person to easily squeeze through, as Wendy and Robbie were steadily proving, but never enough space to stand up or really get a sense of direction.

But bizarrely, Robbie seemed to know where he was going.

* * *

 _-Warning: Final safety locks have been released on reactor 5. Intruders could begin startup procedures at any time._

 _-Input: Disregard. Do not interfere._

 _-Warning: Intruders 1 and 2 are now approaching location designation 'Keep'._

 _-Input: Disregard. Continue long-range observation. This is all part of the plan._

 _-Drones 154, 155, 157, 158, 163, 164, 174, and 175 standing by._

* * *

After maybe 20 minutes of crawling and scrambling and dodging hard corners in the tight space, they emerged into a wider hallway, collapsed about 20 feet in either direction. Robbie pointed to a metal panel jammed in place against the wall, and said he thought that a way forward was hidden behind it.

But Wendy didn't help him move it. Instead she stood back, and sighed. "You know Robbie." She started reluctantly. "As a general rule, you never really admit your mistakes or make apologies. One of the reasons we broke up."

"Uh?" He tried to jiggle the panel sideways, hoping to loosen it. "What?"

"Normally." She continued. "You're kinda like 'ugh, whatever' to everything. Not really excited or curious… You're kinda adventurous, but never on your own, and only to impress people, especially Tambry. And you're _much_ more interested in girls than with _aliens_."

"Well…" He found the jagged part that the panel was caught on, and realized he had to push it _in_ to pull it out. "So…?"

"But today you apologized for everything." She said. "You told me everything you should have said a year ago, really sucked it up and acted the gentleman. And then, you ventured down into an alien ship on your own volition, without Tambry, not to impress _me_ , really for no reason at all… And then, you willingly followed your weird space dreams through cramped little tunnels, and… And now… Now a girl's been pointing a gun at your back for _fifteen minutes_ and you haven't even noticed."

"Huh—AGH!" Robbie finally turned around, and saw her standing in a ready stance, holding the blaster nice and steady at her hip, aimed right for the center of his torso. He jumped to his feet and put up his hands. "What the heck, Wendy?! What are you-what are you doing?!"

"Being a lot less stupid than you think I am." She smiled humorlessly. "Taking the initiative before we get wherever you're going."

"Wai—HUH?" He frowned. "Wait, you think I'm the _shapeshifter?_ What the heck?"

"Hey." She told him. "Calm down. The Shifter's been dead for thousands of years, why would I be paranoid about her now?"

"Well…" He frowned, as if struggling for an answer. "Well… Well Mabel told me that there's one alive today! And it's in a bunker that Ford made!"

"Oh _right…_ You _do_ know about that one somehow. Of _course._ You're _right._ I _should_ be paranoid of him." Wendy nodded. "Now again, calm down. If you're really Robbie, then you'll be able to prove it, and you've nothing to fear. Right?"

"Like…" He took a deep breath, and seemed to calm down. "Like, yeah, I am Robbie… But… But you could be a shapeshifter too…! I think… I think _you're_ the one who's acting suspicious, and!"

"Except _I'm_ not the one with a _gun_ pointed at my crucials." She reminded him. "So let's not change the subject, huh?"

There was a brutish sort of wisdom to that. "…Okay." He nodded.

"What's your girlfriend's name?" Wendy asked.

"Tambry."

"That was an easy one. Band name."

"Robbie V. and The Tombstones."

"Address?"

"42nd Pinewood Blvd."

"…Dad's job?"

"He runs the morgue and the graveyard with mom. And really creepy about it, too… Stupid…"

"What are your talents?"

"Guitar, singing… Spray painting, like, totally counts as a talent too, and…"

"And your secret talent?"

"I… Uh…" His eyes fell. "Drawing anime… Except its actually called manga but nobody understands…"

"Biggest regret?"

"Uh…" He appeared to be hesitating but was really racking his brain. "Hypnotizing you…"

Wendy thought for a moment. She needed a better test; some knowledge that only her and Robbie would know… Something that Robbie would never have told anyone in a million years…

"What color was my bra that night?" Wendy asked.

"Huh?"

"My _bra_. That _night._ What _color_?"

"I…" He frowned. "I…"

She waited.

"I…" He shook his head. "I…" His voice got small, fearful. "I think… White?"

She sighed, glad for some certainty at last. "Wrong answer."

"…I mean… It might've been grey."

"Strike two."

"Pink? I… Look, that really wasn't the part I was paying attention to, alright?"

She put up a hand and stopped him there. "Trick question." She informed him. "Robbie never saw anything of the sort… And got a black eye for trying."

The shapeshifter closed his mouth.

"All right." Wendy's voice was low, steady, and deathly serious. "Now here's how it's gonna work, dude: You're gonna shapeshift reeeeeaaaal slowly into something nice and harmless. And then you're gonna tell me exactly how and when you escaped, what you've been doing since, and who you've hurt along the way. You gimme any sort of trouble? This thing melts a hole. SAVVY?"

Very slowly, Robbie's clothes, hair, and headlamp disappeared, melting back into his flesh. His skin paled, and stretched, and dissolved. The mass that was left seemed to expand, morph, and twist, and finally Wendy was looking at the alien's true form. Its lumpy white hands clasped on top of its head, and it kneeled on the floor in a position of surrender. Two large, bulbous red eyes locked with Wendy's.

And the weird toothed mouth tried a hesitant smile.

"Well." She hadn't heard the creature's true voice in a long time, and it brought back some awful awkward memories. "All that talk." His voice rolled. "All that talk about how aliens aren't monsters… About how they're just people… Respect them, you said. Treat them as equals, you said. I met some decent folks, you said… All that talk, and now you'd shoot me…"

Wendy shook her head. "It's not about _what_ or _who_ you are man… It's about what you've _done_. You've lied. You've stolen. You tried to kill us. You _have_ killed for all I know, and I can't ignore that. Now. How. Did you. Escape."

"…Stasis tube malfunctioned for some reason about a week ago." He said. "Then… A few days later, Robbie came down to freeze some samples he and Mable had been collecting from the robotic forest… He left the door open."

"Robbie. You did what with him?"

The shapeshifter didn't say anything.

Wendy bit her lip, and moved on. "Who else have you hurt?"

He shook his head. "No one."

"…You're lying."

"I'm not." He told her.

"Prove it."

"Call Tambry. Tell her she spent the week with an alien. She'll be _surprised._ She'll be _conflicted._ She'll want to talk to _me._ Because I was a _great_ Robbie. Better than he ever was; you said it yourself: he was prideful, self-centered, lustful. A real jerk. He was taking his life on a wild wide to nowhere. But _I_ was a good boy. People who thought they knew me knew I cared… Tambry loves Robbie _more_ now. And if she had him back? It would be a rude awakening…"

Wendy almost _did_ make the call. But she wasn't all that confident in her ability to hold somebody at gunpoint while talking on the phone. It was like distracted driving; not a good idea. And besides, she wasn't all that confident in her phone's ability to get cell service way down here.

"So." Wendy said. "Just one question then. Why haven't you killed me today? Why lead me off toward wherever this is? Where are we going?"

"I don't know." He told her.

"You don't know?"

"I don't know."

She considered that for a moment. "Do too."

"Do not."

"Do too."

"Do not."

"Do too."

"Do not."

"Do too."

"You're so mature." He scoffed.

" _YOU'RE_ so mature." She corrected him.

"I'm telling you the truth, woman! I remember this place, but I don't know where or how and I just want to see what's down at the end!"

"And I will shoot you! IN THE FACE!"

"Where I CAME FROM! Please!"

She swallowed her next threat, and glanced at the wall panel he'd been trying to move out of the way. "How can I trust you?" She asked. "What can you plainly tell me? And after all you've done, why shouldn't I shoot you? In the face? Right here? Right now?"

"I…" He looked at the panel as well. "I…" He turned back to her. His little claws clicked as he thought for a moment. "Wendy Corduroy." He finally blurted. "What if you were raised by gnomes?"

Wendy pondered this, and decided it was an interesting thought experiment. She took on a more comfortable stance. "Go on."

"What if a horde of tiny little men found you as a toddler, and kept you chained up in a big hollow stump, deep in the forest? You never knew your parents. You never knew who or what you were. 'Human' was a word they never used, not even 'female', you didn't even have a name, only 'monster'. 'Specimen'. 'Creature'. ' _Biologic anomaly!_ ' You were a peculiar giant, with red hair, long arms and legs, and muscles the size of their torsos; capable of feats of strength they'd never even imagined."

"Okaaaay…" Wendy frowned.

"They would come into your stump every once in a while." The shifter continued. "Just to poke and prod you and admire how fast you were learning their language, learning to play chess, learning to use tools, learning to perform little tricks for them. Ever since you'd learned what 'person' meant, you knew that you were one, or at least longed to become one… But you hadn't the faintest idea how, and _they_ would not listen. To _them_ , you were nothing. You were a pet sometimes, when they were feeling generous. You were an annoyance other times, and they would shun you…

"But mostly… Mostly they treated you like a prize animal, as if they were fattening you up to eat you. Every time you were a little bit bigger and fatter they would congratulate themselves and say 'Wow! Look at her! Soooo marvelous!' And they fed you beans, nothing but bucketfulls of _beans_ , and you never knew what anything else tasted like… Until one day… You realized what your basic instincts were saying: that meat was food as well. And you began to wonder what a gnome would taste like if you shaved off the beard and cooked it… You reasoned that gnomes were weak. You could probably bend them, break them, tear them up, they were so small…

"With such ideas in your head, one day you tried to escape. You tore open the shackles on your feet. You got out of the stump, and tried to read their notes, find out who you are, find out what more there is beyond your tiny world. You wanted the answer, just a simple answer to a simple question: _Who are you_? So simple!

"But it didn't work. They locked you in a cage, with a whole truckload of beans for company, and then they _forgot_ all about you. For 30 long years they forgot about you, left you alone with the echoes for company. When you were _old_ … Old enough to be an adult. Old enough that you should have finished a nice education. Old enough to excel at a wonderful job. Old enough that by rights you should have settled down with a nice little man and become a mother of two, old enough that you should be surrounded with family if all were right in the world… When you were _OLD_ …! That was when you finally escaped…

" _If you were raised by Gnomes, Wendy Corduroy, would you have done any differently than I_?"

The shapeshifter rose to his feet, and took a step towards her.

No matter his story, that was a step too far. She pulled the trigger.

The laser bolt hit the Shifter right in the chest. But it wasn't nearly as powerful as she'd hoped, and the creature didn't stop. Before she could let off a second shot, it had snatched the weapon from her hands, and smashed it to pieces on the floor.

Now his gigantic, hideous head was mere inches from her face. Wendy stood her ground silently, her fingers twitching as she contemplated reaching for another weapon, wondering if a fight was necessary, wondering if a fight would even work…

She looked down, and watched his flesh shift and stretch over the blaster wound, shrinking and closing and scarring over and healing completely. In only a minute, it was like there was no wound at all.

She looked back up at his face.

The red, lidless eyes glared at her. The claws around the mouth clicked quietly. His mucus layer rippled and his breath reeked.

He turned away from her, grabbed the metal panel stuck against a wall, and ripped it free. He tossed it down the hall, and it clattered to a stop at the end with a great noise.

There was, indeed, a tunnel hidden behind it.

Without a sound, he collapsed into a slightly narrower form to fit better.

"Lead the way then dude…" Wendy mumbled, and started after him.

The shifter turned and glared down at her one more time. "And my name." He snarled. "Is Sam."

* * *

 _-Warning: Intruders have begun Reactor 5 startup. Power output: 5% and rising. Coolant levels sufficient._

 _-Warning: Intruders have access to all remaining ship systems and engines._

 _-Warning: Intruders 1 and 2 are presently entering location designation: 'Keep'._

 _-Input: Assign bioforms 3 and 4 a threat level of 20. Combat preference: Immediate lethal force. You are clear to engage. Take no survivors._

 _-Threat reassessed. Antimatter pellets loaded and launchers charged. Drones 155, 157, 158, 163, 164, 174, 175 and 179 engaging._

 _-Drones 154, 180, 181, 182, 183, and 188, standing by._

 _-Input: Reserve forces, prepare to enter Keep._

* * *

Wendy began to make out a faint light at the end of the tunnel. Ahead of her, she saw the Shifter's silhouette emerge from the passage, stand up straight, and freeze.

She came up behind him, and stood slowly.

The room was maybe the size of a 3-car garage. It was all collapsed on one side, and all other easy entrances were closed off. It wasn't quite dark, thanks to a few glowing computer screens set up near the center. It wasn't quite dry, thanks to a small trickle of clean, fresh water flowing down through a broken pipe.

And it wasn't quite empty.

Wendy's first thought was 'storage room', judging by the piles of hexagonal crates stacked and littered near the corners.

But there were also the bodies.

Dozens of skeletons stuck to the wall with what looked like giant-sized spider webbing, hanging there with their feet maybe 3 feet off the ground, and their arms stretched out horizontally, as if crucified. Most of them were the squid-type aliens that made up most of the ship's crew. Some were a little different; probably some of the other passengers who'd bought passage as colonists… There were even a few humans. But there was one; one of them had a mouth made of saws, and a metal skeleton, and Wendy remembered having met his ghost. Barney. The man who'd died trying to kill the original shapeshifter.

Speaking of which.

In the center of the room, hunched over a collection of glowing computer screens, there stood a single living figure. Its fingers quietly tapped out some kind of command on the computer, and a few lights flashed. A half-dozen security drones hovered in through openings high on the walls, and turned their red triangular gaze down on the two new visitors.

The figure stood to its feet, and turned around.

And twirled a tape measure in its hand.

"Hello Sam." It said.

"Mom…"


	23. Limbo

_Author's Note:_

Very soon now, we will have our answers.

But for now, a moment of calm in the eye of the storm, and a chance for me to explore certain aspects of these characters I found interesting, and that I never got to touch on before. Although not much 'plot' happens in this chapter, I think it's fantastically important for the characters themselves.

If you like, if you hate, or if it's all getting quite out of hand, leave me a comment to let me know. I always want to know if people are interested or engaged, and, as always, critique and criticism is incredibly welcome.

* * *

In the middle of Dipper's mindscape, Mabel's hunched form stood alone, glancing about uncertainly. "Dipper…?" She asked, as if doubting her own voice. "Dipper, are you… Here?"

 _Hi Mabel… Yes. I… I guess I am._

She put a hand to her head, as if confused or overwhelmed by something. She stuck a finger in her ear, as if trying to clear a blockage. "Uh…" She said. "Uh… Dipper? Can… Is that you?"

 _Can you hear me?_ He focused on thinking the words as hard as he could.

Mabel shook her head again, and turned in a circle. "Uh… No…" She said. "No I can't…"

 _…Yes you can. Otherwise you wouldn't have known to say 'no'._

"Oh… Yeah… That's right… I guess… Wait… Where are you?"

 _I'm looking right at you, uh… I can't move or speak, I don't think I have a body… We're inside… Well, I guess we're inside MY mind inside YOUR mind I think… I guess I'm dead? Did I get that right? I died?!_

"Uh…" Mabel turned slowly in a circle, her eyes passing right over the place where Dipper perceived himself being. If she couldn't see him, his form must really be gone. Finally, Mabel settled down onto a nearby rock, with folded arms and a frown that looked annoyed and very, very tired… "Well… Yeah, mysterious brain voice;" She addressed him curtly. "Dipper IS dead… And he can't come back… So… I think you're Ford. You plugged me into a weird machine just to talk weird and cheer me up."

 _Huh? No, I'm…! Well, I don't think I am…_

"Say something only Dipper would know."

 _Uh…_ He racked his memory for something tangible to grasp onto. Everything was so blurry… So he stared hard at Mabel. At the shape of her hair, and her eyes, her red cheeks, her braces…

Her braces…

In the corner of his eye, one of the many hatches in his mindscape pushed aside some rubble far enough to open a crack. _Mr. Upsidedownington is overrated…_ He finally recalled. Little bits and pieces seemed to follow the scrap. Some incomplete, some without form, some without image, but he mentally recited them as they came. A few more doors opened, here and there. _And… And dad won't let us race syrup after the waffle incident of '08… You ship anime characters while I pretend to listen… And… You were the one who invented the awkward sibling hug, but I was the one who named it… Uh… Uh… Dippy Fresh rocks and Disco Girl is stupid… Wait… No, the other way around. Dippy Fresh was stupid, and Disco Girl rocks… And… I don't know… I can't really remember what else… Oh, yeah, and you sing in your sleep… You inherited it from mom…_

"You…" He saw tears coming to Mabel's eyes, as she stood up again. Her eyes were searching him out more urgently now. "You… You really are Dipper…"

 _…Yeah… No… Well… I guess what's left of him._

"Why can't I see you?"

 _I dunno._

"Like…" She sniffled. "Like, just imagine a body for yourself! Everything you imagine comes true in here… Right?"

 _I… I can't… I mean… I'm having a hard time… Imagining. I mean, I can't remember things. And I just feel really, really confused, and I don't know, I can barely think… I can barely think…_

Mabel put her fingers to her head and squinted really hard for a minute, as if trying to be psychic. When she finished, Dipper found he could feel his body again. He looked down, and saw himself.

"Oh." He wiggled his fake, imaginary fingers, flexed his fake, imaginary neck, and found he could speak. "Hey. Thanks. Uh…"

Before he could continue, Mabel had rushed up to him, wrapped her arms around this fake, imaginary body, and was already crying in his fake, imaginary shoulder. He fell silent. And the hug he gave her back was neither fake nor imaginary.

And so they just stood there like that. It felt like a moment but was probably longer.

Mabel wouldn't stop crying.

"So…" He finally ventured. "I died, huh?"

The body Mabel had imagined for him flickered for a moment, and he felt parts of it go numb. Blood trickled down his forehead to blind one eye He looked down and saw that he had a busted leg, big gashes in the chest, and one of his arms missing entirely. It didn't hurt, not in here, but the injuries were somehow familiar. "Oh…" He said.

"Uhmf!" Mabel gasped and shook her head. "Sorry, sorry…" The body flickered again, and turned back to what they both recalled as 'normal'. "Sorry… That's… That was how… I'm sorry…"

"Hey…" He hugged her a little tighter. "It's okay… Uh… Uh… You know, uh… Wow, 13 years old, huh? That's… That's pretty… I… How did I die? What was I doing? And… Why… How… I…" His mind began jumping around, fixating on those unfinished scraps of his life that now would never be realized. _Ford's apprenticeship that I wanted someday… Publishing a book… Hosting a ghost-hunting show… Wendy… Something with Wendy…_ "I had dreams…" He said.

"No…" Mabel sniffled. "Let's talk about something else. Anything else…"

"…Okay…"

But, of course, one's own death has a way of dominating the conversation. Neither of them could think of anything else to say.

"So…" Dipper finally released Mabel from the hug, and sat down in the grey grass. She eased herself down across from him. "So, uh… I dunno, is anyone else here? Is… What happened to Wendy? Is Wendy here? No, never mind, I mean… Is she okay? Weren't we together when…? Did she…?"

Mabel shook her head. "No, don't worry, she's fine… Well… Like, she kinda… When… Well, she took your journal and stormed off into the woods 4 days ago and nobody but her dad has seen her since… I… I think Great Uncle Ford said she had radiation poisoning…"

"Radiation poisoning…? Is she okay?"

"I don't know… The same thing happened to Great Uncle Ford, and he's fine, just really really sick…"

"Ah."

"I think she blamed herself for the crash…"

"Crash…?" In the corner of his eye, another memory hatch struggled open. Beyond, he saw a replay of the explosion, the impact, the escape from the wreck… He saw himself standing over Wendy's unconscious form, and in front of him was… _that…_ "Oh… Oh yeah…" He stared. "I… I died fighting _that…_ Geez…" He couldn't seem to remember the duel itself, but he saw the beast as it last had stood.

"Yeah…" Mabel sniffled.

"Is Wendy fine…? And… Wait, did I _kill_ it…?"

"Yeah…"

"Wha…? _How_?"

"I don't know…" Mabel wiped her eye. "But… You wrecked Gideon's robot with your bare hands too, and beat Rumble McSkirmish, and won Globnar against a trained adult… This… This is like a stupid habit for you…" She tried to make a joke, tried to smile too, but neither worked.

"Ha ha…" Dipper rubbed his arm awkwardly, and almost smiled. "Dumb habit…"

"Really dumb…"

"Yeah…" He glanced about once more. It seemed to him there was something important he ought to be remembering right now, but he couldn't recall what it was… Maybe it would come to him. "Hey, you're right." He said. "Let's talk about something else. Anything else."

"Yeah."

The silence stretched on.

"Dipper…" Mabel finally worked up the courage to choke out the words. Dipper thought he could hear her heart racing from where he sat. "Dipper…" She repeated, trying to convince herself to talk. "I'm… I'm sorry…"

"Hey, woah." He put up his hands. "Don't blame yourself; _I_ was the one who chose to fight it. You and Wendy didn't have anything to do with—"

"N-no, not for that, for everything _else…_ There's… There's a lotta stuff I never told you, and I never meant to tell you, but now you're dead and… And I need to tell you so, and… I… Is Ford listening?"

"Uh…" Dipper glanced up at the sky, as if he would be able to see Ford up there, maybe hunched over his computer screen looking down at them. "He was reading my mind earlier…" Dipper recalled. "But I think he's giving us some privacy right now…"

"Okay…"

"So…?"

"Dipper… I messed up… And I kept messing up…" Her voice broke, and warbled as it raised an octave. "Everything I do I try to do for the right reasons. I try to be nice, and to be sweet, and to love everybody and everything and make them love me… But it keeps breaking! And I want so bad to do whatever I'm doing that I just keep on doing it! Even when it gets stupid and things start to happen that I don't want to happen, I just keep on being STUPID and SELFISH and DUMB! And… And…" She tried to wipe away her tears, but more just flowed in to take their place.

Dipper wasn't sure what she was talking about. "What are you talking about…?" He muttered.

"And I'm just lucky!" She continued. "Lucky because everything always works out in the end! Lucky because everyone is always looking out for me! If it weren't for you guys… Dipper, I'm not a good person at all…" She bent over, as if trying to puke. "I'm not a good person, the unicorns were right! And I'm sorry…"

"Hey, what? No…" He told her. "It's okay… You're okay…"

"I'm not though." She sniveled. "I'm a terrible person…"

"No you're not… You're my sister; you're Mabel! You-"

" _Mabel_ is a terrible person then…"

"Yeah, well… She may have made her mistakes; everybody does bad things now and then… I mean, I know _I_ do… It doesn't make her a bad person. Just makes her a regular person… And the thing about Mabel? I love her." He put an arm around her shoulder; it felt cold. "No matter what she's done. Even if she's crying, even if she's hating herself, even if she marries a fish person… Even when I'm mad at her, even when we FIGHT, I'll ALWAYS love her…! Always! Don't… Don't you know that…?"

"But…" She turned away from him by a couple degrees. "But I never told you the things I've done… If you knew…"

"It wouldn't change a thing. I love you. And I forgive you. You understand?"

"But but… Oh… Oh yeah?! Well… Well guess what?! Well… Well last summer I almost ENSLAVED sev'ral people! I wanted to make them my toys for all eternity, until my friends stopped me! I never told you about THAT, did I? And I never told you how I beat up Steve in 4th grade just because he was stepping on flowers… And I stole Rebecca's birthday cake in 3rd grade because I was feeling really hungry… And I never told you about the vampires, did I? And… And… AND YOU NEVER KNEW WHY WEIRDMAGEDDON HAPPENED!"

"Hey, woah, calm down! That's all… That's… Listen…"

"YEAH!" She turned toward him, and was practically screaming at herself. "Yeah, you know how the little snowglobe thing with the galaxyness broke? You know how Bill got into our world?! I never told you that because I promised I would never tell anyone because I LET HIM IN! I GAVE HIM THE SNOWGLOBE! ALL THE PEOPLE WHO DIED THAT WEEK, I KILLED THEM! I LET HIM IN!"

"Woah, woah woah…! Hey… Hey… Uh…" As Dipper stood up and wrapped his scrawny arms around her again, he wished they were bigger; wished he could pretend to be strong enough to hold her.

 _I may not be all that Dipper was._ He thought. _I may not be able to stand beside her much longer… But I can tell her what Dipper knew._

"Hey… Look…" He said. "You know… You know why I never mentioned this whole thing before?"

"Why, cause you figured I was just a klutz and dropped it?" She snapped.

"Well… At first, yeah… But… But then I figured it out. I figured out why you never talked about it, and why Blendin left his last message… I put it all together; filled in the blanks. And I understand. Not just understand _what_ happened… But I get _why_ too… I do. I get it."

She sniffled. "You do…?"

"I get what he promised you. I get that you were trying to do it for _me_ … I get that you didn't know… And for the record, you're far from the only one, or the first one to fall for him… You were just unlucky enough to be the last."

"But… But… But he almost gooshed the universe… And… He…"

"We all make mistakes. It's just life… And as soon as you saw the truth, you worked harder than anyone to save the day, now didn't you?"

"But…"

"So… That means you're cool, right? It's-"

"But that doesn't make it all okay!" She wailed, shook his arms off, and pushed him away. "Because THAT'S NOT ALL!" She continued. "TODAY… Today I almost did it again! Because after last summer, Bill left behind a statue in the woods, just a stone statue sitting there with one hand up like this, and… And I wanted you back so bad that I almost shook his hand and almost let him in AGAIN! I almost accidentally the whole thing AGAIN…! So… So how about THAT! Explain THAT away! Justify THAT! Tell me I'm still a good person after THAT…! I'm… Grunkle Stan found me and saved us all again… And… And… And also I was so mad at the robots for killing you that I tried to kill Juan with my bare hands, even though he never did anything and he's just a BABY, and that makes ME the monster and… And… I'm so sorry Dipper, I'm so sorry…" She buried her face in her hands, and sobbed.

Dipper considered this for a long while.

Well, this was a dilemma.

What could he say? Could he call her evil a 'mistake' to try and lessen the blow? Could he tell her she hadn't been in her right mind? Could he tell her 'all's well that ends well'? Could he tell her they were certain that Bill was dead for good? Could he tell her that anybody would have done the same thing in her place? Could he tell her that nothing wrong had been done?

No. For those were all complete lies.

She was right; there was no rationalizing or justifying her actions. She HAD done wrong. She HAD willingly repeated the mistakes of the past. She had betrayed herself and everyone else, and tried to throw away everything she knew… If things had run a little differently, if Stan hadn't been there, if some piece of Bill really was still alive and present in this universe… She may very well have let him have his way. She might have. And she'd meant to.

His sister was guilty.

…But she was sorry.

So the only true thing Dipper could tell her was: "I forgive you."

* * *

Ford kept his eyes off the screens; he'd promised Dipper's simulation a time of privacy with his sister. After all they'd both been through, it was the least he could do.

He found a few cushions and propped them up as best he could around Mabel's neck. Sleeping sitting up like that for hours on end couldn't be easy on the neck, especially not when you're wearing a helmet the size of a colander.

As he squeezed the last pillow in there, he took a look at her face. There were dark rings under her eyes, tangles in her hair, tear stains on her cheeks, and her face was almost pale; the last few days must have been horrible for her. Indeed, he didn't think he'd ever seen her looking this bad. Even during Weirdmageddon, where showers, clean clothes, and fresh water had all gone extinct, she'd stayed strong and happy and hopeful. Even when messed up and dirty and oppressed on the outside, she'd always seemed to be… Glowing inside…

Pity what it all had come to. Such a pity.

But as he watched, a change came over her. Tears began to trickle down her face. But she didn't struggle or move or show any other sign of distress; indeed, the beeping of the heartrate monitor seemed to slow down.

And on the edge of her mouth, there appeared the first hints of something precious: a smile.

Finally a smile.

Ford breathed a sigh of relief and shot a glance at the biological diagnostic screen. The Dipper backup file was decaying fairly rapidly inside Mabel's head, and would eventually reach a point where he was no longer compatible with his sister's brainwave. They'd have to uninstall him at that point, and, hopefully, be left with a Mabel in slightly better condition… _One step forward, three steps back, I suppose._ He thought. _Even if we can't save him, perhaps he can save her… I wonder what happened to her. Stan seemed to think this was pretty urgent._

Ford eased himself to his feet. Dipper wasn't decaying quite as fast as anticipated; they still had 5 hours or so left before terminal failure.

Ford shuffled over to an old couch in the corner of his study, set an alarm for 4 hours, and eased himself down for a nap. The ever-more slow and calm beeping of the heartrate monitor lulled him off to sleep, though he couldn't shake a vague, implacable feeling of paranoia…

* * *

"So… Uh… Well, anyway, we're in the mindscape."

"…Yeah…" She shrugged.

"So that means this reality is our playground. Like a lucid dream…" He glanced around, fishing for some fun idea she might enjoy. "Wanna imagine… Like… I dunno… Jetpacks or something?"

She seemed to consider briefly, and shrugged.

"… _Rainbow_ powered jetpacks?" He suggested. "…Made of _Plush_?"

"No…"

"Why not?"

"Not in the mood."

He chuckled. "I think somebody mixed up our lines."

She smiled off one corner of her mouth. "I guess somebody did…"

"Well… Come on…!" He encouraged her. "We're inside my _brain…_ I mean, normally you'd fight _tooth and nail_ to dig up all the secrets and deep, dark thoughts… There must be _something_ interesting around…"

She scratched her head. Then something seemed to occur to her, and her face finally broke open into her old, familiar, full smile.

Dipper was so happy to see her happy that he didn't even question for a moment. But then, an enormous, rainbow-powered plush jetpack materialized behind her, swung its big fuzzy buckles closed across her shoulders, and rocketed her into the sky on a thundering blast of color, knocking him for a loop. He stumbled back to his feet, wiping some of the indigo off his face (Was this _paint_?) and looked around for where she was headed.

He saw the rainbow's vibrant band arc up from his current location, turn a couple loops through the grey air, then swoop down near a shadowy grove of trees in the far corner of his mind.

He had a hunch what that corner was. A signpost leaning nearby confirmed his suspicions: _romance_. "Of course." He sighed and smiled at the same time, before imagining a (not rainbow-based) jetpack of his own, and lifting off after her. _It's okay after all…_ He assured himself, as the rockets began to roar. _It'll all be okay._

 _She'll be okay._

He turned the jetpack's engines forward to slow himself down, then undid his straps and jumped clear just before it exploded on the ground. (Why did he have to imagine it being so explosive?)

Soon as he got his legs under him again, he followed Mabel down through a tangle of brambles and into the romance sector. "Oh, come _on_ , you _know_ what's in here, Mabel! It's not like you need to see or anything…!"

"Yuh-HUH!" She grinned back at him. "You never talked about it, and always shushed me when I did, so this is like my one chance!" She began to giggle. Then giggle harder. Her giggling rose to a feverish pitch as she scurried onward. "Besides, just try to stop meeEEE-HEE-HEE-HEE…!

"Uuuuugh…" He broke into a jog as he followed.

By the time he reached her, she'd already popped open several doors, and was moving further down the line.

Dipper glanced inside each as he ran past.

He saw just about what you'd expect: Him and Wendy playing at the arcade. Him and Wendy stunt-jumping the golf cart. Him and Wendy playing marbles with the jar of eyeballs. Him and Wendy messing around at the pool. The smell of her beef jerky still lingering on the goodbye letter… Each memory made him awkwardly blush a bit more, until he was sure his fake, imaginary face was as red as a stop sign. Mabel's laughing didn't help either.

He finally caught up to her when she stopped for a minute to inspect the contents of a particular door. He jogged up behind her. "Mabel, please, do—"

"Okay." Mabel grabbed his cheeks and pointed his head toward the door. "WHY. Is THAT in here?"

The memory was him and Wendy trapped underground, being swarmed by the endless hordes of ravenous, razor-sharp, creeping, crawling, alien robot bugs from chapter 13.

"Uh…" He scratched his head. "Why is that in 'romance', you mean?"

"Just… Why?" She rubbed her temples. "Killer robots, fighting for your life… And then romance. Really. I… Uh… I don't quite see how that fits really."

"Well… Y'know… I was doing it with Wendy so I guess… Eh..." He shrugged. "I dunno. It felt just a tiny bit romantic at the time. If you were there you'd have been having fun too."

Mabel looked again. The robots were tying Dipper down and starting to drill through his armor. He dropped his gun and was starting to really panic as their cutting bits burrowed deeper. "You do _not_ look like you're having fun."

"Yeah, well, I was."

The memory showed Dipper screaming for help. Wendy wasn't able to reach him, but hollered at him to find his magnet gun. Her voice was the one non-hectic, confident part of the scene, and Mabel saw Dipper's memory hold onto her voice, and use it to calm down. He reached out his hand, wrapped his fingers around the gun, and pulled the trigger. The EMP ended the battle, and Wendy finally reached him.

She hugged him, and promised it would be alright.

Mabel could see how much they cared about each other. "Oh." She nodded. "…I get it now."

"Yeah." Dipper shrugged.

"Okay, enough of that, what's over this way?!" Mabel shook her head and rushed off.

Dipper saw where she was headed: a place where the trees crowded together ominously overhead, and the path sloped downhill, down into deeper and darker parts of his memory…

"What, NO! NO don't go that way!" He squealed. "That looks like, I dunno, really forbidden stuff! Like stuff I don't think about, or try not to think about or whatever! See?" He pointed to the wayside. "My subconscious even put up a sign here that says 'off limits!'"

"What was that?" Mabel asked. "That sounded a lot like 'blackmail fodder' to me…!"

"Augh!"

"Hey, here's one where Pacifica hugs you!"

"Look—"

"Ah-HA! And here's where she kissed you on the cheek after your date! I always wanted to see that part… Aww that wasn't a very long kiss at all! Shaaaame!"

"Won't dignify with response."

"Where's the rest of the Pacifica junk?" Mabel peaked in a few other doors. "I can't find it anywhere? Didn't you help de-curse her house…? And where's the rest of the date?"

"Probably over there." Dipper pointed way across his mindscape, toward a more secure, less shady area. "'Paranormal event records'."

"Why's it all the way over theeeere?"

"Because, umm… Duh."

"Hmm…" Mabel opened another door. "Oh, hey, there's that girl! That… Like, that one girl! One of the girls that you flirted with during the road trip! …Hey, where's Candy?"

"I would be _profoundly_ confused if you found any candy down here."

"No, not candy as in sugar snacks! I mean, like, Candy Chiu!"

"Oh… Her. Yeah, same for her."

"Yeah, well… OOOOH HEY LOOK!" Mabel found a small, boarded-up door, stuck her fingers into the crack, and levered it open. "It's Abby Lenin from 4th grade! I never knew you had a thing for her!"

"I dunno… Like… She could play piano and that was kinda cool…"

Mabel watched the memory, and gasped. "You gave her a _valentine's day card?_ I never knew that!"

"Yeah, well, I almost got a nervous breakdown writing that card. And then she didn't give me one back, and wouldn't talk to me for a while, so… Yeah. That door was tiny and boarded-up for a reason."

"Yeah, okay, that makes sense. But how about now we… GO DEEPER!" Mabel turned and sprinted even further down the path. "How about THIS one then?" She flung open a very deep door. "Heeeey, who the heck is _that_? She looks like an adult…?"

"Hmm?" Dipper peeked over her shoulder to see what all the fuss was about. "OH AGH! Mabel that's not even a human! That's an anime character!" He grabbed her hand and tried to pull her off the door.

Mabel burst into uncontrollable laughter, and wrapped her arms around the handle. "Who is she?!" She screeched hysterically. "What anime is she from?!"

"Like, just some random thing I found on Youtube! I don't know! She's like a secret agent cyborg ninja or something stupid and you really…! GRR! JIK! AKK!" Dipper got his fingers under her fingers, pulled them free of the handle, slammed the door shut as fast as he could, and then ripped the entire doorframe off the wall.

He stuck the doorframe under one arm, and extended his other to keep Mabel a safe distance away from it. "Look, it was kinda cool, but it shouldn't even be in romance!" He pointed to the removed door. "I'm putting this over by my Star Trek junk! Now can we _please_ just turn back! We're getting into the weird, repressed stuff now! I bet none of this has even been in my conscious mind for, like at least a _year_ now!"

Mabel stuck the sleeve of her sweater in her mouth, and chewed for a minute as she glanced deeper down the path. She was beginning to see the wisdom in that… "Uh… Just one more?"

"And then you _promise_ that we leave the romance sector?"

" _Fine._ " Mabel carefully selected one last door, and opened it…

"Dude." Said the memory of Wendy. "You're lying on my bra."

The memory of Dipper screamed his lungs out and fell off the bed.

Mabel giggled and closed the door. "Okay, let's go."

As they walked out, Dipper breathed a pent-up breath in through his nose and out through his mouth. He wanted to be mad at Mabel for what she'd just did… He wanted to be even slightly annoyed… But anything negative was rather difficult. He glanced at his sister out of the corner of his eye, and saw her braces glint from within her smile.

 _Given what she's been going through._ He thought. _I'm happy to see her smile… Really, that's all that really matters, isn't it?_ "Hey…"

"That part of your brain is big and weird." Mabel interrupted, gesturing one thumb over her shoulder.

"Uh… Yeah... But yours is probably bigger and weirder and crammed full of miscellaneous hunky guys so shut up, that's what."

"Ha ha! Yeah… And really, yours wasn't as big and weird as I thought it would be."

"Oh… Well, that's good."

"Now how about we talk about your crush on Wendy?" Mabel poked him in the cheek. "You know, that one you _totally_ just moved past last year… The one you _know_ will never work out and that you swore to just forget about…?"

"Ugh! ...Uh… Yeah… I guess I never got around to that part…" He admitted with a shy smile.

"I always knew you never did." Mabel smiled. "You two have been practically glued together ever since we came back this Summer…"

"Ha ha… Ehhhhuuuuhhhh. Yeah, just a one-way train to nowhere. That's what that is."

"Whaaaaat? Whaddaya mean?

"Come on. She's a chill, athletic, 16-year-old human girl, and I'm a broken-down, laggy simulation of the brain of an awkward, sweating pre-teen… I mean really, come on."

"Bah! We...! Uh... All this... Well... Well, if this hadn't of happened, I think it would have worked out." Mabel said. "…She likes you."

"Umm… No. No she doesn't… I mean does she? Do people say that? Does she really? Why do you think so?"

"Okay then…" Mabel stopped walking. "…Did she dance with you? Remember? That night when we had the big party? I went up to set up a sleepover with Grenda and Candy, and what _were_ you two doing?"

"Umm…" Dipper scratched the back of his neck. "Oh yeah…" His voice got small. "I, uh… I did ask her to dance I guess…"

"And did she say yes?"

A door hesitantly creaked open behind them. Party sounds echoed in through it, and Mabel saw the magical moment unfold; when he finally worked up the guts to extend his hand and ask the question. And she'd smiled, took his hand, and more or less drug him into the middle of the dance floor. Both of them were beaming.

"Umm… Yeah…" Dipper admitted.

"Boom! Right there man!" She pointed to the door. "Look at her face! She's having fun! That means she likes you! You don't dance with people and enjoy it that much when you don't like them!"

"Uh… Huh… I dunno. I guess… I couldn't dance though."

"So? Nobody can dance perfectly right away. _My_ first time, I almost drowned in the punch bowl."

"…Surprising no one."

"I bet if you asked her on a date now, she'd be _happy_ about it… I bet she's _waiting_ for it."

"Well…" Dipper spread his arms toward the grey landscape around them. His fake, imaginary body flickered once, to fully remind Mabel of how absolutely, entirely un-date-able he was at the moment. "It's not like there's any point talking about it." He reminded her.

"Yeah…" She nervously fiddled with her sweater for a minute, then turned and left the romance sector entirely. "Hey, c'mon!" She said. "I bet we can find a lot of cool memories over there!"

"Yeah, I bet…"

He tried to push Wendy from his mind, as he continued after her. And he tried not to let it show on the outside how much his heart was breaking.

* * *

Ford lurched awake two hours before his alarm. He'd just had the strangest nightmare… A nightmare where a terrible enemy lurked both near and far, between and among, above and below… Who was it?! Where was it?! WHEN was it?! He hadn't a clue, but he knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that everyone was gone.

Everyone, every single one of his friends, family, fellow heroes… Dipper, Mabel, Stan, Fiddleford, even the Corduroy lass, every last one of them, GONE. Were they dead? Were they insane? Or both? Or worse? Yes, they were all dead, _and_ worse! But even more certainly, they were just utterly GONE! There was NOBODY LEFT! _AND I WAS THE FIRST ONE TO GO!_

He shook his head. _No… All a dream… No, nothing but a dream… Just a dream. And, as everybody knows, dreams never mean anything at all…_

He fished his phone out of his pocket, and pressed 2 to speed-dial Stan.

The line was quiet for a moment. Then it connected to his voicemail. "Get outta here lady!" Stan's pre-recorded voice snapped. "I ain't goin' ta your resort, and I've told ya that 5 times now, so quit calling me! _Beep._ "

"S-Stanley…?" Ford stuttered. "I'm sorry, just… Just call me back. Just call me back. I'm sorry… Uh… Is everyone alright? Just need to know… Call me back. Sorry."

He hurriedly closed the phone again.

 _What's wrong?_ He racked his brain. _What's wrong with me? What's wrong with him? Why didn't he pick up? Why am I so scared right now? What the heck is with that stupid nightmare? Why does it still feel more real than reality? What the devil is happening?!_

He looked down at his hands. Two palms, two thumbs, twelve fingers, fifty-three wrinkles, he counted twice. Every one of them shaking and sweating. _Look at me._ He thought. _I'm already half-dead from_ _the radiation poisoning of that blasted crashed ship_ … He was still on a liquid diet, and the past few days had been spent fading in and out of a dreadful fever. _What more might it take to kill me?_

He looked over at Mabel, comatose and helpless, plugged into the machine. _What more might it take to kill her?_

He looked at the computer itself, a most delicate assembly of wires, transistors, and little brown chips. _What more might it take to erase all we have left?_

 _No… No… 'Just a dream' my butt! Dreams… Dreams! What if… What if, what if…_

 _What if what if what if…_

 _Whatifwhatifwhatif…_

 _WHATIFWHATIFWHATIF…_

He struggled to his feet, grabbed a shotgun out of a cabinet, and collapsed back onto the couch with the barrel pointed toward the door. Without once taking his eyes away from it, he reached a trembling hand out, snagged half a mug of stone-cold leftover coffee off a shelf, and downed it in one gulp. _This is a secure area._ He reminded himself. _Nothing could break in here. I can sit here and defend Mabel when something terrible happens… Or until… Until I come to my senses… Am I really going mad? I hope not, but what if? What if…_

His eyes quickly grew sore from staring, his ears remained sharp, his fingers sat loose across the trigger, and so did he wait.

He waited…

 _What if what if what if…_

 _What if I just haven't been getting enough sleep?_

 _What if I'm slowly going crazy?_

 _What if it's all real?_

Just on the threshold of his hearing, he thought he heard something moving in the Shack above.

 _What's if it's already much too late?_

* * *

Dipper pried the weeds and clutter off a hidden door, and got it open a crack. "Hey, look! It's our first show and tell!" He smiled when he recognized the scene. "You remember that?"

"No…!" Mabel hurried over. "Did you really find it?"

"Yeah! Check it out…"

They watched the memory together.

"You brought a Lego X-wing." She put her hands on her hips. "Because of course you did."

"And you brought… Oh yeah. Look at that. A pinecone."

"Wait, is that really a pinecone?" Mabel squinted hard at the memory of the shiny, egg-like object. "Are you _sure_ …?"

"Yeah. It was so covered in glitter that nobody thought it was… I was the only one who believed you."

"Ha ha…"

Dipper straightened up. "How 'bout you? Did you find anything good?"

"Yeah, over here…!" Mabel beckoned him over to another part of his mind, and showed him a door. The scene it recalled was Dipper playing with model dinosaurs, making a pretend documentary. Little did he realize, Mabel was sneaking up behind. In an instant, she snatched his plastic camera, and ran off through the house, laughing like some kind of maniac… It seemed horrific to him at the time, but they both had a good laugh about it now.

They closed that door and continued on.

There was a lot of good stuff in this part of his mind. A ton of strange, hidden little memories here and there, memories that both of them had forgotten they'd made together… Bedtime stories, baking cookies, playing tag, stargazing, minigolf, the waffle incident… Even that time in Kindergarten they'd tried to dig a hole to the other side of the world, and Dipper insisted on bringing scuba gear for when they came up in the Indian Ocean… That was fun.

Mabel ran on ahead to inspect another group of memories, her face finally alight were her smile.

As he ran after her, Dipper's eyes strayed across all the great expanse of the inside of his brain.

 _Huh_. He thought. _We might've gone our entire lives without ever thinking of this stuff again. It's only now that I'm dead that we really take the time to go back and relive all the good times… Only now do we realize how good we had it…_

 _But I'm still dead… Which means all these doors, all these memories, all this stuff I have locked away, it'll all just vanish into oblivion as soon as they unplug Mabel. And nobody will ever see them again… Nobody will ever remember them again. Nobody will ever even care._

 _I guess it's like our lives. We're all impermanent. We'll all pass on. Everything we do will fade into obscurity and disappear, leaving nothing behind, not even a memory… And all we can do, all I'm doing right now, is procrastinating that… Delaying for a few hours the onset of eternity, the eternity where I am forgotten…_

He shook his head. _No! Don't think about that… Don't think about the future, think about the past instead… Because who wants to go to the future?_

 _Don't think about the future._

 _Don't think about it…_

 _Don't think…_

 _Future…_

Mabel noticed he'd stopped running.

She turned around curiously, and saw the look on his face.

"What's wrong…?" She asked, as if she didn't know.

He tried a few times to compose his voice and gather his thoughts, but he couldn't really hold back his tears. "Remember me, Mabel." He finally managed to choke.

She took a minute to process that, then ran up and wrapped her arms around him. "Don't say that Dipper!" She pleaded. "You know I will! I'll remember you forever and always and you know that and I love you and…! And we'll bring you back and it'll be okay and—"

"No!" He struggled against her hug. "No, it won't be okay." He told her. "Don't… Don't hold on to me. Don't rely on me. Don't… It… Look, I AM going away, Mabel. I'll be gone. I AM gone. Ford said this simulation is decaying, which means I'm basically rotting in fast-forward… And… Look, even if you DO somehow bring me back, as a robot or a clone or… A centaur? Heck if I know… I still won't be able to be there for you all the time… You'll still head off on adventures from time to time without me… Go on dates without me… Go to college without me… Get a job without me… Raise a family without me… Sooner or later… You'll have to learn to live without me."

Mabel eyes fell.

"And you…" Dipper struggled to find the right words. "You know what would make me happy? What I need you to do? What… What this _entire world_ needs you to do?"

"What…?"

"You need to be stronger, Mabel… No matter what happens, to me or anybody else, we need you to be strong. Strong enough to hold together when something hits you. Tough enough to take a thousand hits and never break… So that you'll never lose your hope, so that Bill will never tempt you, so that you'll never be hoodwinked by some jerk guy… Just… I dunno. Don't build your entire life on me being there for you, but don't change a lick, even when something goes wrong… Be hopeful. Be loving. Be cheerful, and caring, and good… _Be that way forever_. With or without me. That's… That's what we need you to do."

She held his eye for a long minute, then nodded slowly.

"I will."

"I love you, Mabel… More than the world."

"I know." She nodded. "I love you too… More than the world."

"I know."

"And I'll remember you." She said. "I promise I will… I'll remember everything…"

"I know… And thanks."

A loud, distant sound interrupted them. A noise like a blast, that echoed into Dipper's mindscape from somewhere beyond, resounding between the clouds and trees like a whisper of another world. Mabel got dizzy, and put her fingers to her ears.

"Was that a gunshot?" Dipper frowned.

"I dunno…" Mabel scratched her head. "Was that from real life? Did that, like… Maybe he accidentally bumped the helmet. Or maybe he's trying to wake me up? I dunno, but that did _not_ work."

"Uh… Uh… I dunno, but we might not have a lot of time left." Dipper assessed. "Okay." He turned back to Mabel. "If this is it." He said. "Uhh… Uh… Okay, just be careful out there. Be careful. Dying isn't something that only happens to soldiers, old geezers, and evil henchmen, alright? It's fast, easy, and it sucks."

"Got it." She nodded. "But… Uh… Okay, what do I do? What do I do? You and Wendy were right in a middle of some mission to find out where those alien robots came from, and to save the day or something, right? What do I need to do to finish it?"

"Uh… Okay, we found out where they came from: they were all farm animals brought to this planet aboard that giant ship. They came from a low-gravity, airless planet somewhere in another galaxy, but found they could survive after they crashlanded here."

"Farm-?"

"The farmers themselves are dead, so they don't need the animals anymore. Wendy and I were going to… Uh… To reprogram the gravity engines in the main ship to smash the entire robot forest… I don't know. Maybe Wendy's already on it."

"… And that's it?" Mabel winced. "They have to die?" She knew she'd do whatever she had to, but that didn't mean she'd have to like it.

"Yeah…" Dipper answered. "Well… Actually no… Actually I don't know." He caught himself. "We really didn't see any other way, we didn't think of anything else. But we have to get rid of 'em somehow. They'd do no good for mankind, only harm…"

"But what if…" Mabel wrapped her head in her sweater sleeves. "Hmm… What if… Hmm… _What if there was a happy way_?"

"I dunno, people might not go for it…" Dipper shrugged. "They _were_ the ones that killed me, after all."

"But they didn't mean it… And… And they aren't all bad…"

They were suddenly interrupted, as loud, voiceless words pounded through their minds:

 _-INPUT: The mindscape interface is ending. Prepare to exit._

"No! Wait!" Mabel looked up at the sky and waved her arms, as if that would do anything. "Wait Great Uncle Ford! Not now! Give us half an hour or something! Not now!"

-NOW UNINSTALLING GUEST BRAINWAVE.

-HOST BRAINWAVE, PREPARE FOR DISCONNECTION.

"But…!"

-UNINSTALLING:

\- 2%

"LOOK!" Dipper grabbed her. "If there's a better way, if there's a happy ending here, a way to make things okay again, with me, with the robots, with everything…! Then you WILL find it! I believe in you! Just… Just I know you will. You _always_ see the upside. You always _bring_ the upside. It's who you are… O… Okay?"

\- 5%

She got a feeling in her gut; a feeling that agreed. "Okay." She said.

\- 7%

Dipper's body flickered once, and he felt himself leaving. _This might be it._ He thought. _I'll never remember this, and I might never even live again. This moment, this might be all._

\- 10%

"Do you think there's a God?" He asked.

\- 11%

Mabel blinked.

\- 13%

"GOD!" Dipper turned his head skyward. His voice was starting to lose its form and its steadiness, though whether that was from panic or from getting disconnected, nobody could tell. Nonetheless, he prayed. "If you're there, please save us! Help Mabel to be strong! Help Ford and Wendy and Stan to know what to do! Make everyone do the right thing…! _Please help everything turn out all right_!"

\- 24%

"And God!" Mabel added. "Please bring Dipper back from the dead!"

\- 32%

Mabel's head began to hurt.

\- 39%

Her sight got blurry for a minute, and when it cleared, Dipper was no longer there.

\- 46%

The mindscape around her began to fade in and out; parts of it began to glitch and disappear.

\- 58%

Trees toppled. Rocks split. Doors shattered. The ground crumbled beneath her.

\- 72%

She felt herself falling.

\- 85%

The pounding in her head became excruciating.

\- 91%

Up was down and in was out and sane was mad and _he was gone_ ,

\- 95%

when suddenly,

\- 100%

-DEACTIVATING MOTOR AND SENSORY DAMPENERS.

-SUBJECT IS RETURNED TO BASE STATE.

* * *

She awoke.

The massive computer buzzed tiredly as it finished its work and turned off. The helmet was warm from all its recent electrical activity. The pillows were damp from the tears she'd shed in her sleep. Her neck was just a little cramped from so long sitting up.

The was a big hole blasted in the door, and a lot of overturned furniture and broken equipment.

Ford was nowhere to be seen. Just gone.

Instead, there was only the monster, looking down at her.

She looked up at it, and remembered that the world still needed her to be strong, brave and kind. She still needed to keep her hope. " _Please God._ " She whispered quietly, as she tried to smile. " _Please help everything turn out alright."_

The Shapeshifter shrugged.


	24. Dragon's Lair

_Author's Note:_

Thanks for all the reviews last chapter! Really means a lot.

You'd think that getting reviews would make me devote more time to writing, and therefore make the next chapter come out quicker, but that's not actually the way it works. When I get reviews, I realize how much everyone cares, so I spend longer editing and rewriting to make sure it's good. That, combined with the more time devoted to writing, kind of just evens out to the same amount of time overall. So yeah. Sry.

Also, I feel like I've reached the point where people will throw a fit unless I promise them a happy ending.

But... I can't really promise that.

What, am I supposed to be able to see the future? I don't even know if this thing will get done or not. They could drop the bombs tomorrow; the aliens could invade next week; Christ could return for judgement day at any time. And then what would become of my precious promises?

*Drops mic.*

*Stares at mic.*

*Realizes he doesn't own a mic.*

*Hides the mic's body before its owner comes looking for it.*

*Ends author's note and scampers off.*

* * *

\- Time:

\- 3680 B.C., October 3rd (Long ago, 1 month after the crash of Colonial Vessel 46.18'\\.)

Two solitary armored figures stood on the crest of the hill, looking out across the valley.

One of them was speaking into a headset. "This is Time-Lieutenant Craigoid and Time-Officer Johnicus reporting in. Come in, time-dispatch. Time-dispatch, do you read?"

The time-communicator warbled with static as it linked with the future. "This is Time-Dispatch, we read you loud and clear, Officer. What seems to be the time-issue? Over."

Craigoid's eyes swept the landscape. In his peripheral vision, his partner's hand nervously twitched on the handle of his laser arm cannon; the boy had never been on a mission like this before, and wasn't coping too well. "Well, dispatch…" Craigoid started. "Do you remember learning about that giant UFO that crashed in Southwest Canada?"

"Ahh… Yeah, didn't they unearth that sometime in the 22nd century?"

"Yeah, that's the one… Well… My partner and I just found ourselves at the landing site back in _3680 B.C._ , and it looks like the vehicle has just recently crashed. Fires are still burning, radiation off the charts… We're thinking there might be survivors. Permission to enter the wreck and administer aid? Over."

"Ah, that's a negative, Lieutenant. 3680 B.C. is well outside our department's jurisdiction. What are you even doing back then anyway? Over."

"Got an anonymous tip about an accelerated improbability field. And I am getting some weird readings here; looks like some of the vehicle's engines might still be active. Over."

"Hmm… This could be sensitive then. Return back to present day immediately, and we'll weigh options then. Over."

Lieutenant Craigoid turned off his time-communicator with a dissatisfied grunt, and cast another look back at the crashed ship.

The enormous curved hull arched ominously above the two time-cops, shining in the early morning sun with the tarnished gleam of yielded titanium. Miles behind it, the force of the crash had carved a giant spacecraft-shaped chunk out of the cliffs. All around, massive rubble and chunks of earth and rock lay scattered, as if tossed by a shovel. The bare patches of blasted land had yet to sprout any sort of grass or vegetation, and the nearby river was still running brown with the great volumes of displaced soil. Part of the wreck appeared to be below this waterline, and thus would probably be flooded inside. The hull itself was pockmarked with holes and craters, with the occasional chunk of paneling missing entirely. Some gaps spewed smoke, which bore the strange smell of burning plastics.

Craigoid focused his cyborg eye to try and take a detailed scan of the wreck, but the hull was too thick; thermal and x-ray imaging came up negative. The only way to see inside would be to explore it in person…

He cast a glance back at his young partner. "I'm going in, Johnicus." He told him.

"But sir, time-dispatch sa—!"

"Time-dispatch says a lot of things, kid. Think about it; what if we didn't check it out? Everybody higher-up would be perfectly happy to just sweep it all under a rug, 'cause of course the emperor doesn't have the attention span to deal with it… If anything's to be done, we're the ones to do it… And besides, what they don't know won't time 'em…" He turned off his time-locator. "I'm just going for a quick look. Just to see if there's anyone… Or any _thing_ left alive. You be sure and call it in if anything goes timeways; You can tell 'em it was my idea."

"Well…! Well, it could be pretty time-dangerous, sir! Shouldn't we be more careful sir?"

"Kid…" He gave his partner a stern look. "If we were that careful during… _The War_ … Then your generation wouldn't have been born. It's a fact. I checked."

"You're always talking about 'The War' _._ "

"You're a good kid, kid…" He whipped out his laser cannon, and started for what looked like an entrance. "Stay here kid, I couldn't stand if something happened to you. I'll be out in a time-minute."

"But sir—"

"Oh, calm down, kid. I've handled far worse back in… The War."

"You…! Never mind. Nothing."

The Time-Lieutenant disappeared into the wreck. Time-Officer Johnicus stared after him for a few minutes, then sighed and sat down on a nearby rock. After nervously studying his boots for a few minutes, he stood back up with a determined frown. _That's it._ He thought. _The Time-Lieutenant can't just keep doing crazy things like this. And if I can't stop him, then at least I'll stop him from doing it alone. I'm going in after him._ He pulled out his arm cannon, charged its capacitors, and followed Craigoid down into the depths.

It quickly became too dark to see, so he switched on the cyborg implants in his right eye to get a thermal view. It definitely helped, even if it didn't give very good depth perception.

After a minute or so of walking, the featureless metal hallway split off into a great number of passages and rooms. _Which way did he go? It's like a maze…_

Well, he couldn't just ask. The Time-Lieutenant was always on him about useless radio chatter (After all, they never chatted during The War.) So Johnicus took an educated guess at where he _would_ have gone, and started down the middle path, directly for the center of the wreck.

The last outside light faded behind him, and the radiation and heat were getting steadily worse. Soon he was beginning to worry that his combat armor might not be enough to keep him safe. It _was_ timetanium mesh weave, but enough radiation can get through anything, and besides, the suit still left his face uncomfortably exposed. This rig was for riot control, not environmental shielding…

He was about to turn back when his time-communicator beeped with the voice of the Time-Lieutenant himself. He couldn't make out any words, but the voice sounded frantic. The transmission cut off after a few seconds, and somewhere far up ahead, Johnicus heard the sound of a laser cannon discharge. The color drained from his face. "Uh…!" He stuttered. "Uh! Uh, HANG ON TIME-LIEUTENANT! I'M COMING!" He began to sprint forward, his heart racing. _What if something was really wrong? What if he's actually in trouble? What do I do? How do I help? And what should I tell time-dispatch…?_

 _Oh yeah, time-dispatch! I should really just call this in now…_

But before he could stop to phone it in, he saw the Time-Lieutenant's body lying in the hall ahead of him. Forgetting all else, he rushed up and bent over him. "SIR!" He yelped. "Sir, are you okay?"

"Eh…? Kid…? Oh… Thank Time you're alright, kid. I put up a stiff fight, but that time time-timed mother-timing timehole got away, and I think my time-leg's busted… You're gonna have to go on without me, kid. Tell the Time-Major it was an honor serving with him… Tell Time-Officer Lolph he still owes me synevety credits… And my wife… Tell her she was always a crooked old hag, and I'm glad to be rid of her… No, don't tell her that, it'll break her heart… No, _do_ tell her that. With any luck, it'll break her heart…"

"No, I'm gonna get you out of here sir! Come on, put your time-arm around me, and we can—"

Then a lot of things seemed to happen all at once. Before he knew it, Johnicus was lying on the floor too. His time-communicator was shattered, his laser gun was missing, his cyborg eye had a hole in it, he was pretty sure his right arm was broken, and the Lieutenant was strangely still and silent. _Oh time-dang it…! What happened? What… No… I need… I need to get us out of here. I need to time-travel… Got to reach…_ His shaking hand fumbled toward his belt, and landed on his time machine. _I just have to pull the control tape. Get us back to civilized times, and somebody will find us. Just need-_

A claw reached out of the perfect darkness, and grabbed his wrist. The grip was astoundingly strong, and its skin felt moist. Then another claw reached into his captured fist, and plucked the time machine away from him.

"H-hey! Give that back-!" He stuttered helplessly into the darkness. "Uh! I mean…! You're under time-arrest in the name of the Time Paradox Avoidance Enforcement Squadron! Stand down and nobody gets…! Gets…!"

Something hit him hard on the head, and he knew no more.

* * *

\- Time:

\- 2013 A.D., June 12th (Present day.)

Somehow, the Shapeshifter had gotten free of Ford's bunker. Somehow, he'd been impersonating Robbie all week and nobody had noticed. For some reason, he'd named himself 'Sam'. And somehow, he'd found his way down into the alien ship, and to the exact place where his mother had once prowled. Somehow, 'Sam' had found his way back home.

And somehow, thousands of years after his mother _must_ have been dead… She was alive.

 _Yeah, there's a lot of mysteries left. But none of them really matter all that much._ Wendy thought. _All that matters is that this dear family has finally been reunited, after all these long, hard years apart. Aww! That's so sweet!_

Actually, that's not what she was thinking.

She was really thinking: _NOPE._

 _Nope._ While the two monsters had their attention on each other, she began to discretely back away. _Nope._ Her eyes drifted across the security drones floating around the room. They all seemed to be focusing on her… Not attacking, but it was probably only a matter of time. _Nope._ She looked around the room itself. The walls were covered in grotesque skeletons from all manner of species, stretched out by their arms, plastered in place by spider-like webs. _These are everyone who's ever crossed her… Hate to say it, but some of 'em look just a tad tougher than me._ Wendy's hand touched the wall behind her, and she felt her way back to the passage where she'd come from, never taking her eyes of the shifters. _Nope._ Her eyes lingered on the small, fist-sized yellow machine Momma Shifter clutched in her right hand. _If that is what I think it is…_ She finally found the opening in the wall, turned toward it, and began to sprint into the darkness. One hand fumbled out her flashlight, and the other pulled a second ray gun out of her belt. _NopenopenopenopenopeNOPE._

Just before she passed out of sight, she stopped, and pointed the weapon back at them. _The beam isn't all that powerful, so I gotta shoot 'em in the head this time. But which one to shoot first?_ She took aim. _Momma Shifter knows this ship better than 'Sam', so she'd be harder to escape from. Plus, she apparently has control of the security system. I shoot her, then I shoot him as fast as I can. But whatever I do, it needs to happen quickly, before something worse happens._

She pulled the trigger. Two green beams spat from the weapon's tip. But it was too late, because something worse was already happening.

* * *

\- Time:

\- 2013 A.D., June 12th (Present day, a couple seconds before the last paragraph.)

 _So._

His mother was a thin little woman, as far as the definition could stretch. Shorter than himself, and narrower across the shoulders. Her 4 legs were longer, and their 6 tips seemed sharper. Her arms were more symmetrical, and their fingers looked stronger. The pale mucus layer across her body wasn't transparent, as his was. It seemed cloudy, and swirling, and active. As if even though she'd reverted to her true form, she'd never really relaxed. Never let her muscle cells go limp. Always optimizing her body. Always focusing, always preparing, brewing and stewing, hiding something.

And as for her face…

He'd never had any experience interpreting the expressions and body language of his own people. But to him, her face seemed hard… Not loving like he'd hoped, not relieved at seeing her son, not happy or warm like a mother should be… But not hateful, or cold, or distant, or cruel either… Just _hard_. As if she were already insane, but could not be driven insane. As if already dead, but could not be killed. As if already unspeakably evil, but could not be corrupted. As if nothing he would ever do could ever even make her blink. He got a feeling that if he ever laid a hand on her, ever crossed her, ever even looked at her wrongly, he would instantly just fall down dead… Without cause, without reason, just dead…

The bodies on the wall seemed like they were looking at him. Warning him with their silent, toothy smiles and their hollow, empty stares to flee from this place and never return. He tried not to look at them.

His mother's narrow red eyes rotated slowly in their sockets, as they looked him slowly up and down. He blinked, and wondered if he should have. His claw fidgeted at its side, and he told it to hold still. He opened his mouth, then closed it again, because he dared not speak.

 _These aren't ordinary feelings to have towards mothers…_

After a quiet and bone-chilling moment of inspection, her body began to shift. She transformed into something that looked like a human with a fish tail, and made a strange series of chirping, whistling noises, like a porpoise. Then fell silent, waiting for him to respond.

He frowned, not sure what that meant or what he should say back.

She transformed into something large and hairy, (called a 'Gremloblin', if he remembered correctly), and made a growling, roaring noise.

He didn't know what that meant either.

She took the form of a human woman, with a pronounced jaw, a heavy forehead, and clothing crudely made of animal fur. This new form made a noise like grunting and hooting.

Was that some kind of language? He didn't recognize a single word.

The next form was a human woman too, and the noise definitely words. Not English words, but it was certainly supposed to mean something. He just didn't know what. The human looked Native-American.

The next human looked very Asian, and he didn't know that language either.

This process repeated a few times. A few different humans, a few different ethnicities. African. European. Middle-eastern. A few others he couldn't place. Always they spoke some language he'd never heard.

Finally there was a lengthy pause, and she returned to her true form. "No?" She asked, her actual voice level, quiet, and not quite casual. "Nothing? Just English?"

 _Oh._ He realized. _It was a test. A test I must have failed…_ "No." He frowned. "Just… English."

"Hmm." She considered him for a moment longer. Then she took a step toward him.

He almost felt intimidated enough to take a step back.

She came right up, and walked in a slow circle around him, her eyes drinking in every detail. She looked into his eyes, inspected his teeth, curiously regarded his misshapen right arm. Then she raised one of her hands. The claw on the end shifted into what looked like a tiny knife.

The blade darted forward and left a tiny cut in the shoulder. He jumped not quickly enough, and bit his tongue to keep from crying out. A tiny dribble of green blood ran down his arm, while the wound itself closed up and healed over quickly.

His mother's knife shifted back into a finger, and there was a drop of his own blood on the end. She licked it off, and was silent for a minute as she rolled it around on her tongue, tasting every chemical, every hormone, every strand of DNA.

Finally she spoke again.

"Disappointing."

The work hung in the air for a minute.

"What do you mean…?"

"Your taste." She pointed to her mouth with a little grimace. "Your flesh has fallen into familiar patterns, lost its potential, and its versatility. And your mind…" She pointed toward his head. "You are not nearly paranoid enough, not nearly observant, deceptive, or clever enough…"

"I…? How do you know?"

She pointed to a faint mark on his chest. "How about this? What caused this?"

He looked down. He thought the scar would have disappeared by now, but apparently nothing had escaped her scrutiny… "That's—" He began.

"Knife, sword, spear?" She interrupted. "No… Axe. A human weapon. And it isn't very deep, so a _weak_ human at that. Something small and pathetic, something overeager and overconfident, something you _should_ have been able to kill in an instant. And it wasn't in your _back_ either, so that means you were _facing_ this enemy. At close range. _You. Lost. A fight. Like that."_

"Well—"

"Am I wrong?"

He could feel himself growing angry. "…You're… Right…" He managed to growl.

"And I couldn't help but notice…" She gestured back toward her ghastly wallpaper. "You've been glancing at my little collection rather frequently… As if they horrify you… So that tells me you've _never even killed_ anyone before… Have you."

He licked his teeth slowly. "…No…"

"And you don't have any money. And you don't have any tools. You don't have friends in high places, or plans, or expertise or special skills, or anything at all that could be of use… Do you."

He frowned silently.

"Sam." A quiet sound, somewhere between a growl and a sigh, rumbled up from her throat as she folded her arms. "…Why did you waste your life?"

He stared at his mother, agape.

All this time. All this expectation, all this yearning for his people, for his family, for somebody to share his burden, for a friend to be there for him… All his life of pain, and this was his reward? To be told that everything he'd ever done was grossly insufficient…?

A single thought rose up in his mind, and overpowered his fear: _How dare she?_

"…Is that how it is?" The Shifter growled. "I… I can be anyone. I can do anything, learn anything, mimic anyone… That's how I got _here…_ I got _here_ … _I found you_. I fought tooth and nail my entire childhood to get free of my prison, I've learned music and science and deception in the week I've been free, and now you're telling me I should have learned _languages_ by now? Telling me that my shapeshifting skills, which have _always_ been sufficient as far as they depend on me, aren't good enough?"

She didn't visibly react, although her eyes may have narrowed just a touch.

"…Stanford Pines, the man who found me, he never stopped poking and prodding. Never stopped feeding me beans, never let me learn, never let me know who I was. He's the reason my arm is like this…" He pointed to his misshapen, bulging right shoulder and shriveled hand. "One day when I was young, he stuck a needle in there. Don't know what was in it, but this arm never grew right; whenever I relax, it stands out… And I never saw the _sun_. Or the _surface_ , or this _ship_ , or any of my own people, or anything at all beyond my _CAGE_ …

"He found my egg in 1979. That's thirty-four years ago. Thirty-four years where _I knew you were dead_ because you never came for me; never rescued me. But now that you're alive, it just invites questions: _where were you? WHY was I ALONE? Why did you let me SUFFER?! WHAT…"_ He took a step toward her, raised his hand to strike her in the face. _"WHAT KIND OF MOTHER ARE YOU?!_ "

Less than halfway through his swing, she transformed her fist into a club made of 2-inch-long-throns, which she used to jab him in the stomach hard enough to pierce his organs. His own blow never connected, and doubled over in pain, leaving his head exposed. She turned her other fist into solid bone, enlarged the muscles on that arm, and swung it at his head.

His scull cracked nearly in two. He quickly liquefied it, shifted it back into place, and re-hardened it again. (Which removed the injury, but did nothing for the raging headache.) Blood continued to pour internally and externally from the dozen gouges in his stomach, though they were healing quickly.

Before he'd even gotten his wits about him, he felt enormous clawed hands grasp his shoulders, and lift him off the ground. He opened his eyes to behold an honest-to-goodness dragon, like something out of a fairy tale, or a nightmare. Its monstrous leathery wings, almost too large for the confines of the room, spread over the scene, while its warm breath and coal-orange eyes bore down at him from amid the dark purple scales. Its spear-like tail curled threateningly, much too close to his back.

"Hmm." His mother's voice chuckled from between the jagged teeth. "The humans have gotten to you." She told him. Her voice was cold now. Very, very cold. "To the humans." She continued. "A ' _mother_ ' is a mentor, a teacher, a helper. This is because they are WEAK… They cannot learn on their own. They cannot mature or grow or conquer on their own. But WE, my son… WE are STRONG. You are right; we can learn anything. We can become anything. We can become great; it is in our nature to make of ourselves what we will… That is why I never named you, Sam. Because you don't need me holding your hand. When you were ready, you would name yourself. You would become yourself! …I _trusted_ you to become yourself!"

The dragon dropped him on the floor. Its scales blurred and paled, its limbs shrunk and thinned, and the entire massive beast collapsed back into the shape of his mother, standing in the exact same position that she had been before he struck at her.

He struggled slowly to his feet, with no more words to say.

"I don't need to explain myself to you." She told him. "…But since you asked: I left you for Dr. Pines to find so that you could kill him."

"I…" Sam grunted shallowly. The pain in his stomach was still incredible, assisted healing or no. It would definitely leave quite a scar. "I… I was SMALL…!" He managed to gasp in protest.

"You were WEAK!" She corrected him, and almost spat out the last word. "If you were truly STRONG, you could have taken the form of a fast and slippery worm, climbed your way down his throat, and split him open from the inside! Why didn't you kill him for his scientific knowledge, kill his partner for his mechanical knowledge, take the place of his brother the globe-trotting vagabond for his worldly knowledge, ally yourself with the demon himself, and earn yourself a spot as a ruler of the universe? Grow prestigious among all manner of beings, amassing power and wealth and glory to rival all lesser life…! But _instead_ you _squander_ the fertile ground that I gave you… And then have the audacity to tell me I did nothing…"

He stared at her for a good long while, in silent, dumbstruck horror.

 _They thought I was twisted._ He thought, as he took a step back. _They thought I was evil. They thought I was a monster… Heck, I even thought so myself… But now I meet her… I guess everything's relative…_

 _No…_

 _No, she's right._

 _Nothing's relative at all._

 _There is no good. There is no evil._

 _There is only strength and weakness… It's like I've always known deep down: the only virtue is power. Love, care, friendship, and all the things I've longed for… They don't matter. They don't buy anything, they don't do me any good…_

 _She's right. I did adopt the human's beliefs. I sought after feeling and happiness, whilst caring nothing for true power and greatness. And because I was not monstrous enough, because I was not evil or twisted enough. Because I was too jaded, too hesitant, too cowardly… I gave up my strength._

 _I sacrificed everything that could I have made me great. I lost…_

He swung an enraged punch at the wall as hard as he could. _SHE'S RIGHT!_

 _I understand now… I understand…_

His mother suddenly changed the subject, and pointed behind him. "Who's your little friend?"

He sighed silently, and glanced over his shoulder at the place where Wendy Corduroy had been standing moments ago. "Oh… That's… Hmm… Where'd she go? The dragon must have scared her off…"

"Her? I don't think so…" His mother retorted. "Better question: why didn't you disarm her?"

"I uh… I did… I destroyed that ray gun of hers…"

"Congratulations on that." His mother hissed sarcastically. "But did you know she also had a second one hidden on her person somewhere? Along with two axes, 4 knives, a flare gun, a lighter, a can of pepper spray, and whatever this is?" Her hand opened to reveal the small pile of items she'd just described.

"No…?"

"5 minutes ago, she shot us both in the head." His mother dropped Wendy's gear on the floor, and once again twirled the little yellow machine she'd been holding this entire time. "And you died. All because of your negligence; forgetful enough to take eyes off her even for a moment… You should have at least moved your brain out of your head, instead of leaving it in the one place where _anybody_ would be sure to aim…"

"I… Huh?" He glanced confusedly about the room, looking for his misplaced enemy. And what was this about dying? She made it sound like it had already happened…

He finally located Wendy; she was webbed to the wall with all the other bodies. Arms and legs stretched out, mouth covered up tight, perfectly helpless… How the heck did she get there?

"Do you know what this is?" He turned back to his mother in confusion, and saw her holding up the little machine for him to inspect.

"No…" He frowned.

"I wanted you to come back worthy." She lowered her voice. "Perhaps that's one way you're right about mothers… We all want to see our children grow up to be something, we all want the best for them, and are disappointed when they fail… I don't want to let my only son go to waste. I _do_ want you to be great, Sam… And if you're too weak to ever be of use to me, perhaps the only way _is_ to offer you a fresh start… Here."

She tossed him the machine.

He looked down at it. It was a fist-sized yellow and black box, with a few buttons on the top, a belt clip on the back, and a symbol like an hourglass on the front. There was also a little tab sticking off the bottom, and he pulled it. The tab extended off, trailing a numbered ribbon behind it… Was this a tape measure…? Wait… It didn't have inches or centimeters on it… It had times. Minutes. Hours. Days. Years… _Centuries_ … _Millenia…_ As he pulled the tape out further, the machine itself began to emit a quiet whine, like the starting of a tiny engine. The symbol began to glow a bright blue.

Then he remembered a story he'd overheard from Wendy this morning, and it fell into place.

" _It's a time machine_ …" He realized.

"The only gift you'll ever get from mommy." She said. "Take it away, use it well… And don't show your face here again, not until you're STRONG. Come back..." She pointed a hand toward a small pile of gold sitting in one corner of her cave. "When you're rich," She gestured toward the security drones hovering about the room, waiting on her command to strike. "When you're powerful," She morphed her face rapidly through an innumerable number of faces, forms, and appearances, as if shuffling cards. "When you know every language, have read every book, taken every class, when you're smart enough to match me and man enough to no longer need me," She pointed to the wreckage of the ship around them. "When you know how to help me fix this heap of scrap, and are ready to meet your people…" She pointed to the bodies. " _And when every single one of your enemies is GONE…_ Only then do you have my permission to return."

He looked at the machine. Then at Wendy. Then at his mother.

He locked eyes with her, and held her gaze in silence for a moment. And he realized that he hated her just a bit.

He had a fairly good idea of where to start on his journey, so he pulled the time machine's control tape out to the 10-day indicator, pressed the 'backward' button, and released.

With a blinding flash of blue light, he disappeared.

* * *

 _This is probably how bugs feel._ Wendy thought. _After they've gotten themselves all tangled in a spider's web, and sit waiting for the beast itself to take notice of them, and come to eat._

 _Well, no… Bugs probably don't feel exactly like this._ Bugs have pretty thick exoskeletons, so the hard little fibers of the web probably wouldn't dig into their skin in such an uncomfortable way. And bugs don't have very good eyesight, so they probably wouldn't have to suffer the suspense of seeing the spider sitting there, biding her time. And spiders don't gag their prey, so bugs wouldn't be quite so preoccupied with chewing and spitting all the sticky gunk out of their mouths.

And, of course, bugs are much too dumb to actually understand what was happening to them. They don't sit and stare at the spider and quietly rage, think and plot their methods of escape, and ponder the consequences of the situation.

Wendy was no bug.

As she silently hung there, she thought.

 _So Sam can go anywhere or anytime he wants. Where would he go first? What'll he do?_

 _…Well…_

 _If he can go to the past, the real question should be what has he ALREADY done…?_

* * *

\- Time:

\- 2013 A.D., June 2nd (10 days before the present; the day that Sam awoke.)

Sam stepped into the bunker, blinking his eyes to clear the daze of hyperspatial travel. _Well that worked._ He thought, as he looked around. _June 2_ _nd_ _. The day I woke up…_

He inspected the cryogenics controls. The gauges all hovered steadily at their normal levels, and the camera feed showed himself, locked and frozen inside the stasis tank. Everything around appeared to be running normally, and there was no hint of the malfunction he remembered waking him.

 _That's funny._ He thought. _I distinctly remember finding the controls all shorted out when I thawed. And I came back to today to find out the reason for the timely fault…_

 _But…_ He looked down at his hands. _Now that I'm here, now that I'm NOW… I wonder if I'M the reason it malfunctioned?_

He shifted into a stronger monster, raised the meaty fists, and smashed the controls. Several red lights began blinking, and a pneumatic hiss from the containment room indicated that the tubes were thawing.

 _What do you know? I guess I am._

 _Time travel isn't so hard…_

After a moment of thought, he pulled the tape out to 6 days, pressed the forward button, and released.

* * *

\- Time:

\- 2013 A.D., June 8th (4 days before the present, the day of the death of Dipper Pines. Chapter 18.)

As he stepped forward, he knew he wasn't ready.

He didn't really know how to find a robot's weak points. Didn't really know how to stay in her blind spots. Wasn't really sure how to dodge her saws. Didn't know how fast she could move, injured as she was. He didn't really know how fast he could move himself, weighed down as he was with armor. Wasn't positive whether he could keep Wendy safe, unconscious as she was.

Heck, he didn't even really know how to use this axe.

He wasn't ready.

Then again, he never was. _Never stopped me before._ He thought.

And thus did the duel begin.

The first couple minutes went okay. He distracted the beast enough to lead it away from Wendy, and kept out of its reach for the most part. He'd even used the chainsaw chaps to gum up all but one of her saws, so that her means of attack was limited to her remaining saw and the claws on her forelegs. Plus, she seemed to be getting tired after so long dragging her own weight around, and was slowing down…

And as for Dipper himself… Nothing but flesh wounds. Some worse than others, some bleeding pretty bad, but nothing deeper than skin, no broken bones. He could still walk, still move all his appendages. And his thundering heart and adrenaline-filled mind kept him upright and focused, forgetting their own troubles until some less-desperate moment. As human bodies tend to do in such situations.

Moments later, he scored his first step towards real victory. He'd jumped onto the creature's back, and when she found that she couldn't reach her forelegs up far enough to grab him off, she'd rolled over to crush him. At the last second, he'd shoved the axe into a chink in her armor, and jumped clear. Her own weight drove the axe in deep, and 2 things _snapped._ One of them was the axe's handle, the other was something crucial inside her.

And now the two combatants lay not 6 feet from each other, ankle deep in the cool water of the creek. Him gasping for breath, and her with completely paralyzed hind legs.

 _Yes… YES!_

That would buy him enough time to run back and get his magnet gun, and stun her harmless… Then… Well… They weren't too far from the Mystery Shack, so Ford or somebody would probably get here before long and finish her off for good…

Actually, no… No, there was no need to finish her off. He could see it now: she was already dying. Some surge in her neck was sparking and hissing with electricity, doubtlessly frying her nerves one by one, and wasting whatever energy she had left… And volumes of black, living oil oozed and trickled from her every injury, pooling on the surface of the water, being carried away… And what machine could run without oil?

Her one red eye was flickering ever darker, losing its glow, losing its life…

Dipper staggered to his feet and looked down at her.

 _I…_ He barely dared to think it. _I won… I beat you… I saved Wendy… I WON!_

The thought threatened to break his focus, but he knew he had to press his advantage now; had to go get the magnet gun. Had to get Wendy to safety. Had to get his injuries looked at. No time to celebrate, not while something worse could still happen.

But it was too late, because something worse was already happening.

* * *

The world slowed to a stop. The birds stopped singing. The bees stopped flying. The trees stopped swaying. The water stopped rippling. The wind stopped blowing. Even the very soundwaves in the air halted in their travels, and the lightspeed constant dropped to about 80 miles per hour.

Dipper no longer breathed, and the lion no longer struggled to move. They just sat there, frozen down to their very atoms, staring at each other.

Time itself was effectively paused.

Sam stepped out from behind a tree, admiring the glowing machine in his hand. _I'll have to remember that button._ He thought.

Careful not to leave footprints or otherwise disturb the scene, he came up behind the combatants. Once he got safely into the lion's blind side, he extended one hand, and touched her on the shoulder. With his free hand, he pressed the button again.

The time machine hummed, and the robot returned to motion. Her oil dripped and splattered on the frozen water, the sparks from her neck arced slowly and sluggishly through the still air.

Sam took a step back.

The beast was a little too dumb, overwhelmed, and injured to understand that the rest of the world was frozen. All she saw was her last little enemy, standing there before her. She levered herself slowly upright, dragging her paralyzed hind legs behind. Her one remaining saw extended to deal one last spiteful attack.

The saw cut Dipper's arm off.

Confused as to why that had been so easy, the creature swiped her claw at Dipper's head. The impact left a crater in his frozen helmet, and a hole in his frozen head.

She swiped again, and tore open the boy's torso.

She tried to swipe once more, but she was getting so very, very… Tired…

The light finally left her eye, the last of her power arced through the breach in her spine, her oil stopped flowing, and her gears went limp. Slowly, she collapsed in the water. And the dumb little life she'd lived became no more.

Sam looked upon the scene.

 _I left no trace. I left no clue. The boy died in his own fight, against his own enemy, and nobody will ever suspect different. Nobody will seek justice against me, because nobody will ever know._

 _You see, mother? I can kill. I can murder. And I can be clever about it. I AM capable of doing, learning, and becoming anything. I can make you proud yet, you wicked old crone…_

He looked at the gash across Dipper's chest. And he looked down at the faded scar in his own chest, and he smiled wryly.

 _Who am I kidding? This isn't about mother. That one… That one was for me._

He returned the local timespace continuum to its base parameters, and stood watching just long enough to see Dipper's arm fall off. To the boy, helpless and impotent during these events, the lion would have appeared to teleport toward him, inflicting all these injuries instantaneously. To him, such a twist must have seemed bitterly unfair. Almost like cheating.

Sam pulled the tape out to the 2-day increment, pushed the backwards button, and released.

 _Thank you, mother._ He thought. _For the gift._

* * *

\- Time:

\- 2013 A.D., June 6th (6 days before the present; the day the robot first attacked. Chapter 7.)

Wendy, Dipper, Soos, and the Stans stood dumbstruck in the Mystery Shack parlor, as the saws of the robot lion tore through the wall toward them. Mabel stood in the midst of the group, holding in her hands the reason for their current danger: the lion's lost child, 'Juan'. She was trying to approach the enraged machine to give him back, but Stanley was holding her at a safe distance.

The wall was coming apart, rapidly. Soon it would be inside. Wendy realized they had no time left, so she snatched Ford's magnet gun from him, pointed it at the robot, and fired. Mabel screamed and dived off to the side with Juan, to keep him away from the blast.

But the mother took the pulse square in the brain.

The sound of its saws, and the yelling of the humans inside, all stopped at the same time, leaving the entire house instantly silent. The mother's remaining eye darkened, and its body twitched. Then it slouched over, half inside the doorway, half out, and stopped moving entirely. They all stood there staring for a minute or so.

The only movement was from Juan, as he crawled out of Mabel's hands, ran across the room to the dead machine, and began to gently lick at her face with his saws.

"You killed her." Mabel whispered.

Wendy lowered the weapon, and sighed.

"You killed her!" Mabel screamed. "Wendy, you murdered Juan's mom!"

"Not murder!" Wendy snapped. "It's just an animal! A metal animal at that, and it darn well had it coming!"

"She only wanted her son!"

"She was destroying the house!"

"She's innocent!"

"She chased me to kill me, she ate our bikes, she fought my dad, SHE MAYBE KILLED MY DAD, and she was coming to kill us here! Mabel, this was the only way!"

As Ford took his magnet gun back, he mumbled something about both of them being right, and something else about endangered species.

Mabel was near to tears as she stepped over to where Juan was licking the bigger machine. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry…" She whispered to him, and reached down to pick him up.

But then, he did something that nobody expected.

He sawed Mabel.

She yelped, drew her hand back, and then stood staring at the trickle of red coming out of the body. Then she burst into tears. "I'm sorry, Juan!" She wailed. "I'm so, so sorry!"

Stan rushed forward and dealt Juan a savage kick, which sent him smashing into the wall. Dipper was right behind him, and he pulled Mabel back to safety. Stan went to find the first aid kit. "Shoot that little one, will you Ford?" He asked.

Ford pulled the magnet gun back out.

"I'M SORRY!" Mabel wailed again, and struggled against Dipper's hold. "I didn't mean any of this! I STILL LOVE YOU, JUAN!"

Ford leveled the gun. Nobody besides Mabel moved to intervene.

Before he could pull the trigger, time froze.

Sam stepped out from behind the larger robot, and inspected the scene. _The way I figure it, that girl Mabel is the one who released me from my prison. She may not have meant to… But I can use the little robot as leverage to manipulate her. Trick her. Make perfectly certain that she WILL set out on her own secret little hairbrained quest. Make perfectly certain that she'll let me loose._

After all, that's the way it happened already, isn't it?

He reached out one long arm, unfroze Juan, and picked him up. The little creature struggled in his hand, twisted his head around, and tried to cut his hand. Sam transformed in Mabel's form, the shape he would most be used to. "Hey, calm down!" He told it, with a smile full of braces and a chipper young voice. "You're with friends now, you little tool…"

* * *

\- Time:

\- 2013 A.D. (Present day, give or take maybe an hour.)

Ford stood with shotgun ready, listening to the creaking movement in the Mystery Shack far above. It can't be Stan; he's away. It can't be the kids; they're here with me, as much as they can be. It can't be FiddleFord or Wendy, they're away too… Who or what was trespassing now, of all times?

He glanced back at his great Niece, now plugged into the brain-scanner machine. _I should wake her._ He thought. _Just so we're both alert and able to handle ourselves in case something worse happens._

" _Remember ME?"_

But it was too late, because something worse was already happening.

" _I remember YOU."_

Ford managed to get a single shot off, but that only because it had appeared behind him, and startled him into pulling the trigger. He tried to spin around, clubbing out with the butt of the weapon as he did, but somehow this thing seemed to know his every action before he even did it.

" _And I'm here to split you open… Just as I should have done the moment I first laid eyes on you."_

In a number of seconds (too rapidly to react, really), the gun was out of his hands, his feet were out from beneath him, and he was flying across the room toward opposite wall. Already his hand was reaching for his trench coat to retrieve another weapon, and his eyes were squinting shut in preparation for the impact with the wall.

 _"My name is Sam. And my enemies are gone."_

But then something happened that neither of them suspected:

In midair, Ford disappeared in a flash of blue light.

Sam blinked, as he stared at the place where the old man had vanished. _To anticipate all his actions, I had to relive this fight 3 times._ He thought. _And he never disappeared before… Maybe… Hmm… Ah, perhaps I'll come back to this fight a 4_ _th_ _time, but that time I'll merely freeze time and steal him. Yes, that will be smart of me. I'll take him somewhere quieter, and do as I will there… Perhaps this future-me thinks I shouldn't kill him immediately, and extract all the useful scientific knowledge he possesses first… Savor it… I dare-say, perhaps future-me is right._

He turned to Mabel Pines.

 _Now._ He thought. _The girl responsible for freeing me. The girl I corrupted. The girl whose brother I murdered. The girl whose very life is now laid bare before my every whim…_

 _Whatever am I to do with you?_

* * *

\- Time:

\- 2013 A.D., June 12th (Present.)

 _He can do anything!_ Wendy realized. _He can enforce his own fate, he can change the fate of others. He can kill, he can save… He'll do exactly as he pleases, for exactly as long as he pleases, and there's nothing anybody can do to track him, follow him, foresee him, or stop him!_

 _HE WAS THE ONE WHO KILLED MY BEST FRIEND! HE'S THE ONE WHO'S ABOUT TO KILL MABEL AND FORD! He's the one who's behind this entire awful mess! IT ALL MAKES SENSE NOW!_

 _I'LL KILL HIM!_

Wendy strained once more against the webs in utter rage, as she racked her brain. _I have to escape! I have to! But I can't…! Somebody's got to come for me! Well… Well how about Stan and McGucket?! They're working on the ship's reactor right now, and they'll realize I'm gone before too long, and…_

Wendy saw the mother Shifter tap a few buttons on her computer console. The security drones in the room, no longer needed, hovered out the door to resume their normal operation.

 _Oh yeah._ Wendy remembered. _HER. She's in control of the drones. She could have sent countless units to attack the old guys. They wouldn't expect a full-scale attack like that, and would be annihilated… I have to warn them! Have to warn them… How do I do that?_

After she'd been pondering that for a moment, she heard a noise begin. It was a massive noise, rumbling through the walls with a shudder and an enormous echo; like thunder, or the passing of a nearby train. _Those must be the engines!_ Wendy thought. _They got the reactor working, I guess…_

 _Wait…_

 _Is it too late for a warning?_ Wendy blinked. _If she sent the drones right away, like an hour ago, then they could be dead already! She could ALREADY be in control of the ship! We were planning to use the ship's engines like a tractor beam, to destroy the Forest of Daggers… With that kind of power at HER disposal, she could do the same, to anyone or anything!_

As Wendy stared aghast at the shifter's turned back, the rumbling of the engines took on a new horror. _My… My dad and his crew are out there right now! Right near where it's aimed… Is this the noise of them dying?!_

 _Has she been pulling strings too?! Is that the only reason she's in the 21_ _st_ _century at all?! Because this is the time she knew we'd finally get the reactor running? Was she just biding her time while we prepared her the ultimate weapon?! Are we all just pawns for the wrong side?!_

 _Has the wrong side already won?!_

The webs were cold and rough on Wendy's sweaty skin. The engines turned back off, leaving the air silent and perfectly still. The monster herself turned off the console, leaving the room almost perfectly dark. As her eyes adjusted, Wendy saw the monster finally turn toward her.

She finished adding it all up.

 _Stanford is gone._

 _Stanley is gone._

 _McGucket is gone._

 _Dad is gone._

 _Mabel is gone._

 _Dipper is gone._

 _Every last one of the heroes in this town, every last one of the people who might know how to fix this or might stand a chance at doing anything at all…_

 _Every single one of them is gone…_

 _…_

 _I'm the last one left._


	25. The End of Fate

_Author's Note:_

Sorry for the absurdly long wait for an absurdly short chapter, everyone! I hit some serious writer's block with this one, and spent a couple weeks beating my head against a wall. And not some wimpy Sheetrock wall either, I'm talking a _real_ wall, with bricks and everything. But not to worry, I drilled completely through with comparatively minor scalp avulsions, and now you can all reap the benefits of my labor. Do enjoy.

All right, now where were we...?

Oh yes.

That's right.

* * *

Wendy strained one last time at the webs holding her to the wall. She thought she felt a few strands breaking near her legs, but their failure did nothing to weaken the rest of the material. In fact, the more she wiggled around and tried to loose herself, the more the webs just stuck and mashed together, the more they bonded to her skin, and the more her muscles yielded to fatigue. After a minute or so she gave up, no closer to freedom and feeling significantly more like a cocooned insect.

She could move her fingers. She could move her toes. She could move her neck and her eyes, but that was the limit of her. Her arms, legs, torso, all her body… It no longer obeyed her. All she could do was stare at the monster, as it stared back.

The Shapeshifter's mother. Some kind of time-traveling mystery character, who'd seen thousands of years of history, who'd killed people throughout them, who seemed to know everything, and who most likely ate people. Wendy could feel those cold red eyes probing and inspecting, as indifferently as one might regard a museum piece, or a slab of meat.

The beast took a step toward her.

 _She could kill me._ Wendy knew. _She could kill me if she wanted, and I can't even move._

 _…Wait, was she an 'it'? Or was it a 'she'?_ Wendy briefly wondered to herself. _A person or a thing? How do you refer to intelligent creatures which act like this? Are they still rational beings? Or can you be so evil and twisted that you forsake your own soul?_

Wendy was quite too mad to really care.

"Let me down!" She told her, as she came closer. "Come on, you grimy old sack of phlegm! Let me down or I'll beat the living daylights out of you! Come on!"

She stopped about 3 feet from Wendy, and peered down at her face. "I thought I gagged you." She replied calmly, as she inspected the stray scraps of webbing around Wendy's mouth.

"Yeah, well, maybe you should use more than weird spider webs next time." Wendy growled. "Something I can't just chew up and spit out."

"What, do you have experience?" Her head widened slightly, and her teeth shapeshifted into some kind of slobbering, many-tendrilled orifice, which then secreted a stringy mass of webbing. She rolled the material into a tight ball with her hands.

"Well, it's just common sense." Wendy tried to shrug. "I mean, if _I_ had somebody tied up in _my_ basement, you can bet I'd make darn su—" She squeezed Wendy's cheeks, forced her mouth open, shoved the ball in between her teeth, and pasted it in place with another web across her face.

Wendy took a deep breath in through her nose, as she silently glared.

The creature calmly wiped the excess gunk off her hands, then eased to a seated position on the floor to match Wendy's eye level. They were both silent for a moment, one by necessity, one for thought.

"I know lots of things." The shifter finally remarked. "From all times, from all places."

"Mmf mf." Wendy retorted.

"And some of them… Are about you." She said. Her body rearranged into the form of Mr. Sherman, her PE coach from grade school. "Wendy Blerble Corduroy…" Mr. Sherman's voice grunted with perfect clarity, in precisely the same gruffness and timber she remembered. "You did pretty well on the football and wrestling teams in your elementary and middle school years… And word on the street is, you 'kind of ruled' in the annual lumberjack games…"

"Rgf mmf." The gag made it easy to hide her confusion. _Wait a minute!_ She thought. _Was_ _Mr. Sherman the shapeshifter all along? How does THAT make sense? What the HECK?_

The shifter's form changed again, this time solidifying as a short, intense Asian man: Mr. Chiu, her science teacher from just last year… "Although both your grades and extra-scholastic endeavors declined steadily through your teen years." Mr. Chiu's voice told her. _Wait a minute!_ Wendy thought. _Mr. Chiu has a human daughter. He couldn't have been her all along… She must have… Wait, what?_ "Perhaps." The image of Mr. Chiu continued. "Was it because you discovered friends in lower circles? Or as you became increasingly disillusioned with the world…?" She transformed into Toot-Toot McBumbersnazzle, aka Blind Ivan. "Or perhaps as the late Blind Eye Society trimmed back your working knowledge whenever you happened across something you ought not see…?" _Okay, there's no WAY that Blind Ivan was her this entire time… So how DOES she know so much…?_ The creature morphed again, and now Wendy was looking at and listening to her own _dad_ … "However it worked, you got it through yer noggin' that everything ya did was just useless and pointless… Guess ya figured on how _easy_ it was to sit on your butt and do nothing at all. So ya threw yer life away, and turned inta _the lazy one_ …"

Wendy glared.

The mimic of her father leaned in a little closer. "Yeah, that's it, ain't it? The Wendy that allll them school records show. Always so darn chill, so calm, level, and cool… But as far as the world's concerned, far as life goes among adults, yer less than useless…" It sounded and felt like her own dad talking. Gruff as ever. Candid as ever. _Right_ as ever…

The shape changed again, to Stanley Pines. "No…" Her former employer scratched his chin skeptically, and adjusted his glasses. "Naw, that ain't it. That's ain't you, not anymore. Now I hear yer doing better in school, ya had a hand in eliminating the Blind Eye, in that rascal Bill's defeat, and now in even weirder junk…"

She took the form of Robbie, which set off some alarm in Wendy's mind, as she remembered that Robbie was probably _dead…_ "You, like, don't fear anything at all…" Robbie's voice told her. "You fight robots on Tuesday, Aliens on Wednesday, ghosts on Thursday… All sorts of crazy adventures, you're probably real close to a lot of things you _really_ shouldn't see…" And now the shifter looked like Tambry. "People don't ever _change_." Tambry told her. "They _get_ changed. So why are you different all of a sudden? What changed you? Your job at the tourist trap selling _junk_? Mr. Pines, that old jerk you worked for?" Tambry put her hands on her hips. "Or something else, like your _new_ friends?"

Now the shifter shrunk down to the size of a child. A very familiar size. A very familiar shape… Before Wendy had a chance to mentally prepare herself to look at this, she found her eyes locked with those of Dipper. "Was it me?" It was his voice again, his old, familiar, youthful voice. The voice tore into the weird corners of Wendy's mind, upsetting everything, confusing everything; she was defenseless against it. _Dipper._ She blinked. _DIPPER!_ She tried to shake her head. _Dipper's dead… Dipper!_ "…Was it _Dipper_ …?" Dipper asked.

Wendy opened her mouth, but couldn't quite find words.

"Sorry." The Dipper mimic smiled awkwardly. "I didn't mean to ramble. I guess… Sorry. Anyway, I guess what I _really_ want to know is what I _don't_ know. Like, c'mon, I can tell there's something you're not saying. Maybe _many_ things? …No, just one thing… Yeah, there's one secret you swore to always keep from me, and what's that?" Dipper's hands reached up and peeled the gag off Wendy's mouth. "C'mon, just tell me… I mean, why not at this point, huh? Ha ha… Yeah…"

Wendy flexed her jaw, enjoying the ability to once again breath freely. Dipper's hand reached up and brushed gently across her cheek. The thin, cold little fingers felt just exactly like his… Wendy blinked, and despite herself, almost half-believed it was him.

But of course, it wasn't. And she didn't believe it. "Go die in a hole, you PSYCHO!" She screamed.

"Whaaaat, c'mon Wendy!"

"You—"

"Hey now, you don't want me to use the tentacles."

"The? Wait, tenta—"

"I guess _I_ wouldn't mind though." Two of the fingers on Dipper's hand grew and expanded into a pair of stiff, thin, sharp little appendages, which he then shoved them up Wendy's nostrils.

 _It hurt._

Wendy thrashed around, tried to pull away, tried to turn and hide her face, tried to reach her hands in to help, but nothing worked; they were working their way deeper into her skull. Wendy's furious struggling managed to break some of the webs holding her head in place, but the extra movement just made the probes hurt a hundred times worse.

 _IT HURT._

"Actually." Dipper said. "I could do this all day."

Wendy emitted a furious cry; a guttural, feral sound she didn't know she had in her, and arched up to try to bite the hand. Her teeth clacked in the empty air.

Dipper's voice burst out laughing. "Reason!" He said, as he drug Wendy's head back down to face forward. "Ingenuity, modesty, fair judgement, rationality; that's the kinda stuff that separates people from animals. Think about it Wendy: maybe you should speak up now, before you cross the line."

"Die! In! A! Hole!" She managed.

"I ain't gonna die." He told her. " _You're_ gonna die! Right _here_ , right _now_ , all _alone_! Look at yourself, you've gotten really sick and weak, and now you're afraid too. And your body! Your body is mine; helpless, invaded, bound… Every one of your friends is gone, and there is no one to help you… _The only reason you're still alive is because you're FUN!_ And because I think it's actually pretty funny that you think you can keep a secret from me!"

"NONE OF YOUR BUSINESS!"

"Remember everything you still have left to lose! Your sanity! Your honor! Your dignity! Your soul! How long until I'm not speaking to Wendy anymore? How long until there's nothing on this wall but a wild, snarling _dog_?!"

"YOU SHUT UP!" Wendy screamed.

The lights flicked off in the room, leaving Wendy with no perception of the world except the sloppy sounds of creature's movement, the taste of her own blood, and the pain…

She felt the fingers curling inside her nose, pulling her forward. Then they pushed, and slammed her head against the metal wall behind her. Then they pulled again, and they slammed again, and again, and now her entire head hurt and she could barely concentrate, and she could feel something inside her head rubbing raw, as if with every blow was drilling the dreaded things deeper, closer to her brain.

Tiny, sharp, incredible pains shot through her arms and legs now too, and she guessed the shapeshifter must have put other limbs to work as well, poking and prodding and crawling over her like hungry little spiders, drilling and cutting and who knows what else. And all through it, there was just this darkness, hiding whatever else may be in store…

 _Why is this even happening? Why does it have to hurt? And why do I care whether this THING knows or not anyway? It's not like it's super important, or even true… What's the point in keeping secrets? What's the point in screaming threats? What's the point in even trying? Just kill me! KILL ME!_

All alone, in great pain, at the end of everything, Wendy finally panicked.

"11:03 THIS MORNING!" She gasped.

The pounding ceased. The poking and the stabbing paused.

"What was that, red?" Dipper's voice asked.

"Eleven…" Wendy screwed her eyes shut, and felt tears trickle down her face. "Eleven-oh-three this morning… This morning… You'll see… My secret…"

Slowly and painfully, the fingers pulled out of Wendy's nose.

She sneezed up blood.

"Broken at last." The creature remarked in its natural voice.

The gag was crammed back in her mouth, the loosened webs were reinforced, and then the monster retreated. She must have had a second time machine besides the one she gifted her son, because she promptly disappeared in a flash of blue light, leaving Wendy alone.

* * *

All seemed suddenly quiet, and still… But not empty. It was threatening, near, haunting… Wendy could feel evil standing all around. Could feel danger, could feel fear, as it stood and watched and taunted and worked deeper, searching out those corners of her brain that hadn't yet been violated.

She blinked.

 _I need to escape…_

Wendy knew she couldn't escape.

 _I need to bust loose…_

How on Earth could she ever bust loose?

 _I need to stay conscious. Alert…_

That was looking difficult…

 _I need to think…_

Wendy couldn't think.

 _I need to think…!_

She wasn't good at thinking.

 _I NEED TO THINK!_

She never had been the thinking one. She was just the athletic one. The fighting one. The level one. The calm one. _Dipper_ was the thinking one. Dipper was the creative one. Dipper was the hero, and I was just his crush. Just his sidekick. Just there to make sure he didn't get hurt…

Dipper…

 _I knew you._

 _Know you._

 _I was your crush. I was your protection. And I was your calm._

 _Now I guess I've failed all three._

She sneezed again. Her chest heaved painfully, and more blood dribbled over her lips and down her chin. _Dipper…_ She could barely breath, past her flooded nose and the gag in her mouth, so she gasped and wheezed every breath, as she croaked, and coughed, and cried, and bled. _I'm sorry… I never told you that you were a great guy…. I never told you I loved you… I let you die, left you for others to bury, I just stormed off and got myself here… And now I panicked… And now I played the fool with a monster who doesn't even know you… I gave up our secret… I gave up our secret…_ She cried and she bled. _I'm sorry…_

He wasn't who the shifter pretended to be. He wasn't that. He wouldn't do those things…

What would he say if he _were_ here?

 _If Dipper were here…_

Well. First of all, he'd probably be all like: 'Wait, what secret? What's so special about 11:03?' He was a curious guy; always did have a hard time knowing when to mind his own business.

Wendy scraped her cheek against her shoulder as hard as she could, and managed to loosen some of the webs holding the gag in place. After a minute or so, she was able to get her tongue past the edges of it, and break the rest of the strings. Then she spat the ball to the ground, and was able to breathe easily again. The oxygen was little reconciliation for the rest of her suffering, and she may have swallowed some of the sticky gunk by accident.

 _If Dipper were here…_

'At 11:03 this morning…' She would have muttered to him. 'I… Kinda let Stan in on my secret… If creepy-face warps back to then, she'll know too… Ha ha… I just wanted to make sure I wasn't going crazy, that's why I told Stan… But I guess I'm still not sure… Guess I'll never know…'

'You're not crazy… Y'know the stuff she said about being an animal isn't true. You… You're not. You're not crazy. You're not.'

'…I guess everyone reaches a point, dude… Guess it just takes one bad day…'

He wasn't sure how to counter that. 'So… I dunno. So what's the secret?' He would've changed the subject.

 _Yeah, I never did tell him that one. Real shame, because I guess it was his secret as well as mine… If he were here, if things were looking this bad, I guess I probably would have admitted it to him. If we're both to die, he deserves to know._ She would have told him. '…I met myself last fall.' She would've blurted reluctantly. 'My future self. She came time-traveling back from maybe a decade down the road, and she talked to me… So she's a big part of the reason I'm working harder in school, going on these adventures, and doing better with things in general… Like Momma Shifter said, I got changed… Didn't want her to know, because… I don't know. It's private. It's cool… And after everything I lost, I didn't want to lose that too…'

'Woah… What was she like?' Wendy turned her head to the left in the darkness. If Dipper had been here with her, he would have been captured too. He would've been webbed up in the empty spot next to her… She imagined him there now, and wondered again if she really was going crazy.

'Uh… Real chill… Real chill.' Wendy recalled. 'Totally decked out in futurey gear though, like some kinda time-cop. She was wearing this big robotic suit of armor, she had weapons, and a time machine…'

'…Did she say anything about me?' Dipper would have asked. Well, no, actually he wouldn't say that. He'd just _think_ that. Out loud, he'd just nervously mumble something lame like… 'Huh, wow. Robot suit, huh?'

'Heck yes she mentioned you.' Wendy would have replied. 'Yeah… She said you were a great guy. An example to learn from, even… In fact!' Wendy crossed the point of no return, and spat it out. 'She said! She said that you end up being my _husband_ for some reason! We're _married_! How 'bout that?'

That would have taken a couple seconds to sink into his brain. And then he would have freaked out for a several minutes at least.

'Yeah, c'mon, see? See why I never told you?' She would've scoffed, tried to downplay it. 'You make this whole relationship weird and awkward enough without me dropping the "oh-hey-it's-destiny-or-something!" bomb in the middle of things.'

'WELL! BUT! I! UGH! AH! WHAT?!'

'Look… Just calm down, it doesn't matter, all right? I mean… It's not even true. You're dead. And now I'll be dead. Somehow it wasn't real… And now I don't even know what's happening! Everything's falling apart and dying so fast; you, my friends, my dad… And to top it off, I sang like a canary after a measly 5 minutes of torture! I lost my calm! She got to me…! Like, what's the point in even trying? I'm not strong any more… _Dipper, if I'm not the strong one, then who am I_?'

He would've forced his mind back on-topic; he was good at that. He would've thought about it all for a minute, trying to think of something wise to say. Then he'd finally say it, and it wouldn't be very wise at all; just sweet and simple and caring… Something like, 'Don't you remember? _You're a flippin' Corduroy!_ '

'A flippin' Corduroy…' She sighed. '…Why did you idolize me so much, dude? Everything meaningful I ever did was just because I _had_ to or because I was bored…'

'Well—'

'You know you could've done better than me… Guy like you could've set your sights higher; fallen in love with somebody beautiful and talented… A genius, or a super hero, or a princess…'

'UH…!' He would've hurried to interject 'W-w-would it, like, be too cheesy to say you're a princess to _me_?'

'Oh my friggin'…' She tried not to roll her eyes. 'You…! Oh… Geez, okay, focus. C'mon Dipper. C'mon, help me out here, look at this rationally, what do I DO? How do I get out of this? I can't fight time-traveling monsters, can I? Time traveling monsters that can be anyone, do anything…'

'Well… I don't… Uh…'

'You have to know! I got myself into this mess, and now you have to get me out of it! Come on… You always know! You're the smart one! You're always able to ad-lib some kinda plan! Always!'

'Umm… I don't know… Oh man, I wish I could reach my journal…'

Wendy's eyes drifted across the darkened room to the place where it was lying among her other confiscated stuff. 'I can't reach it either… But well, hey, I have been reading it the last couple nights since you died, so I remember a lot of it… Why?'

'It's got my notes on time travel…'

'Uh… Oh, wait wait, yeah, I read those! I read them… What about 'em?'

'Well… Okay, think. Think about it: _When_ did you see your future self?'

'Huh?'

'When did you see her? Before I died, or after?'

'Before! Duh… I tried to write down a time and date to bring her back AFTER you died… But she didn't show…'

'Okay… Okay… Okayokayokay… Okay, So! Why _wouldn't_ she show up _after_ Sam killed me?'

'Umm…' Wendy thought about that. Up to now, she'd just blindly accepted that _something_ changed; that for some reason, it didn't work anymore. But why? She tried to put it together. 'Maybe… Maybe when he killed you, he changed the future? Yeah, so in this reality, I die right now instead of later, so she isn't able to come back for me…'

'But if you die right now, then how would she have been able to come back in the first place? If this is the way the future goes, then how could she ever have existed?'

'The future changed…'

'No no no! Remember my notes! What did I say?'

'Uh…' Wendy racked her brain. 'I don't… There wasn't anything in there about this. Just one part about a baby and some gladiator battle, and then one part about you making a mistake and trying to fix it…'

'The second one. The mistake. Do you remember what happened then?'

'Well… I remember you were pretty vague; what was the mistake again?'

'It doesn't really matter what it was. All that matters is what happened! What happened? Remember!'

'Uh… Well… Didn't you say it didn't work for some reason? Right? Yeah… You said it didn't work…'

'Right!'

'And then…'

'Then?'

'Then one time… You said you tried _really really_ hard, and actually did change it… But even then, circumstances forced you to go back in time by your own free will, and change it _back_ …'

'Exactly. No matter what I did, no matter WHAT, fate intervened to set history on its proper course… Even when I succeeded in one place, another place failed. Eventually even I gave up.'

'Okay… So what does that mean?' Wendy forced herself to think. 'What does that mean, how does it all connect?! Does that mean no matter what I do, I'm gonna die here?'

'No! It just means that there's only _one_ reality, Wendy. You can't change the futre more than an inch, and even if you do, it'll iron out the wrinkles itself. It'll _stabilize_ … And… And now this is great! This is great! Because remember, _you've seen the future_!'

'…The future where I become… Like, a time-travely warrior thing?'

'Yeah! Where we're mar—'

'Shut up.'

'Ah! Sorry. I mean…! …I mean that future-you must have come from a time _after_ all this… After the wrinkles get ironed out. After reality stabilizes. Which means that after today, after whatever happens next, somehow _that's_ the reality that'll remain. And that's probably why she couldn't come back to today! Because this time is fated to get decay out and disappear. Get replaced…'

'But…'

'But what?'

'…But how? What do I do to do that?'

'Umm…' Dipper came up short. This was as far as his optimistic reasoning took him, and he really didn't know what to say next. 'Well… I… I dunno. Time logic says _something_ has to happen… I think… I guess you might outsmart her, or you might outfight her, maybe even outfox her or out-time her… Uh… Heck, it might not be you; maybe somebody else entirely will find a way to change things. But I'm pretty sure something has to happen sometime, and if you're the last one left, then… It's pretty much up to you… It's like destiny or something.'

'But… Are you sure? What if… I mean, you don't know everything. Your journal doesn't know everything. What if this is all just… Stupid wishful thinking…?'

'…You tell me; are you _sure_ that it was you last fall? The time traveler?'

'…Yes.'

'And…' His voice would have faltered just slightly. 'Are you sure that that future is something you want?'

'Well…' Wendy thought for a minute. 'Well…' If he were here, he would be trying not to stare at her, but still hanging on her every word, waiting for her reply. He'd said all he could say, and now he wanted to know if she would fight to the bitter end. Whether or not she could still keep her faith, even when everything seemed to be standing in the way, even after everyone who could ever help was gone, even if unspeakably twisted beasts tried to cut their way into her mind. He wanted to know if she would be willing to fight to the death to save him. He wanted to know if she loved him.

Wendy almost laughed when she realized what was being said. 'Well, duh! Come on dude, of course!'

He would have nodded nervously; he was still a little stressed, a little overwhelmed, a little frightened. But now, he knew how she felt. He knew her secret. He wished he didn't know it, because yeah: it did make everything weird. But still, he knew that this weak and hopeless prisoner would one day be his wife.

He believed it.

So he would have found a way to smile, and ask. "Then what are we waiting for?"

Wendy awoke with a start.

* * *

Just a dream.

 _…Just a dream? Naw… Naw, wait a minute, why would I have been sleeping anyway? Blood loss? Shock? General weirdness? No, that's no reason to sleep… And that wasn't a normal dream either… I dunno, that must've been Dipper's ghost or some crap! …Or a wizard. Or some kinda time-traveling pseudo-memories from a timeline that never happened. Or the Shifter using psychic powers to deceive me… Or maybe it was just some kinda weird, prophetic dream that happens because… Reasons…_

 _Oh, who am I kidding? It was nothing! Nothing at all… Everyone knows dreams never mean anything at all._

 _Of course they don't._

 _But meaning or not, it made sense. It actually made a whole gob of sense._

 _She believed it._

Wendy shook her head to clear the last of her confusion, then took a deep breath to prepare herself. Her nose was still totally clogged up, but at least the bleeding had stopped, and she'd gotten that blasted gag loose.

 _Please God._ She thought to pray. _I don't even know what's going on, but I know it's never too late to pray, so... Please help this all turn out alright. Help reality go the way it ought. And help me know what to do._

She began to breath really heavily and quickly. She'd heard of scuba divers doing this before a deep dive; it's to flood the body with oxygen and give you more energy.

When she felt fully riled up, she threw her entire weight to the left, curled with her left arm and pulled on her right, trying with every ounce of strength to pull it loose. When the webs digging into her wrist became too excruciating to bear, she threw herself to the right and tried to pull her left arm loose instead. That didn't work either.

Dang it.

She relaxed after a moment, defeated yet again.

 _Hey…_ She wiggled her shoulders. They were at least a _little_ looser now. She could shrug like normal, at least. Maybe she'd try to escape again in a couple minutes, after her muscles stopped hurting. And then another couple minutes after that, and again after that… It all depended on how long the shifter would take to get back… What was taking so long, anyway?

"Thought I gagged you." The voice interrupted.

Wendy jumped. The voice unnerved her, startled her, reminded her of the pain that was still so near, and filled her imagination with pain to come… Before Wendy had time to fear, she reminded herself that she angry.

Bitterly, furiously angry.

Wendy Corduroy. Angry Corduroy. Flippin' Corduroy.

There was gonna be payment. There was gonna be pain.

"You do realize I was able to just reappear the split second I left, don't you?" The monster asked, with a tone like a smirk.

Wendy's voice came out rather calm. Surprisingly calm, even to her. "…Oh yeah, I knew that." She nodded smoothly. "Simple time logic, that's what that is… So hey, I guess you know my secret now? How you like it? Bet you're pretty surprised to find out you've got a time traveler locked in your basement, huh?"

"No… Not really. I get all types…" The lights in the room flicked back on. They weren't very bright all considering, but after perfect blackness, Wendy still felt like blinking. The monster gestured to one of the skeletons on the wall. The body was human; and seemed to have some kind of cybernetic thing hanging from one socket. Its torso was plated in dusty old armor. "That one was a time traveler too." She said, as she ran a hand over the hourglass insignia on the breastplate. "Lieutenant something-or-another. Very brave old man, very proud. Wouldn't speak a word besides his name and rank… At least at first. But he cried out for his mother days later, and now I know all that he knew." She pointed to another human cyborg skeleton. "That one, also a time traveler. He was head of his class at the time-academy, but applied all that knowledge just three and a half seconds too late." She pointed again, this time to the lanky, squid-like skeleton of one of the ship's crewmembers. "And the clever nuclear engineer. He knew every single bolt and beam of this vessel, and yet he failed to hide from me. That one? Top security officer of the whole place. He didn't want to surrender the drone control codes, but such is the way of things… That one? A most prestigious scientist, master of everything from nanobiology to embryotic mutation decay. One of the smartest men I've ever talked too, he almost convinced me not to eat him. And her? Ex-convict. Stowed away on the ship to escape a death sentence on her homeworld. She devised all kinds of clever ways to escape from me too, but you can see how they ended. That one?" The shifter pointed to a metal skeleton, with clawed hands, a mouthful of saws, and dead aluminum eyeballs that had never quite rotted. "You know him; maybe even met him, yes? ...Yes, last survivor of a colony of intelligent machines. He was a truly great man in his life. Intelligent. Determined. Prepared. And an entirely good and noble soul as well. He stood for nothing but truth, honor, and the safety and preservation of loved ones… But he's gone like the rest… Such a shame."

"Yeah." Wendy shrugged. "Nice collection… But, uh… None of them were destined to kick your butt though."

The shifter turned to her. "You know." Her voice grated menacingly, like the tearing of cloth. "The only surprising part of your story is that you would even consider your secret a _secret_. The surprising thing was how defeated and dejected you acted when I extracted a piece of trivia so _petty and meaningless_ …"

"Yeah, well…"

"Oh, wait… Hold on a moment; you still think it's _true_ , don't you? Really! Didn't it ever dawn on you that somebody's been lying to you all along? Did it ever even cross your mind?"

The shifter's voice broke and changed now. Wendy couldn't quite place it; it sounded familiar from somewhere… But then her body began to shift and morph. Four legs became two. White mucus hardened into flesh. Hard, dark plates formed together, rose up, and interlocked into armor. Little bioluminescent lights began to glow in high-tech patterns, and features solidified on the face.

The eyes… The hair… The suit of futuristic robotic armor… Wendy stared.

"Look familiar?" The monster ran a gloved hand through her long red hair, smiled her freckled, adult face, and twirled a futuristic laser-axe. "You get good enough at shapeshifting, you can start inventing forms. How do you like this one? All I had to go on was your own appearance, and a little imagination…"

Wendy stared, and blinked, and stared again. She found herself at a loss for words.

"Perhaps I'll head back to last Fall with this, and say some nice things to you. To make you do all the helpful things you've done since… What do you think of that?"

Wendy didn't speak.

"…Or…" A smile twitched at the corners of the mimic's mouth. "Or do you still believe you know the future?"

Wendy thought about this, as she stared at the perfect image of her dream. The image rested a hand on its hip, and stood in that characteristically powerful, proud, relaxed way that she remembered… Every single detail really, truly was exactly how she remembered it.

 _It was her the whole time._

 _My future self wasn't real._

 _The promise, the mission, the hope..._

 _It was all lies…_

 _…_

 _...No..._

 _No._

"No…" Wendy said.

The mimic cocked its head.

"No…" Wendy repeated. "Wait… You've seen her."

"Hmm?"

"You've _seen_ her! Seen me! That's how you know what she looks like; you've _met_ her… You've probably _fought_ her, that's _it_!" Wendy flexed her fingers, preparing to assault her bindings again. "You knew it all along! _You're trying to get in my head, trying to probe me and hurt me and BREAK me to prevent me from becoming who I AM, but you KNOW!_ You know the reason she didn't show up this morning! It's 'Cause I'm gonna escape! This… This is _destiny or something_! I'm gonna fight my way across _time_ and _space_ to save my friends and my family, save the day, be the HERO! And then we're gonna take what's left of you, feed half to the pig and use the rest as VEGETABLE OIL!"

"YOU?" It scoffed, and gestured again to the skeletons. "When I've hunted and killed and eaten all who came before? Time travelers! Warriors! Scientists! Inventors! Heroes…! And now you! Hanging among the remains of better people, tell me:" Her voice rose to a screeching, furious, monstrous pitch as she raised her arm. The hand flattened itself, and sharpened into the fine edge of a large blade. Then she leapt at Wendy, lashing the deadly blade directly for her torso. "WHO DO YOU THINK YOU ARE?!"

Wendy didn't blink.

*BEEP! BEEP! BEEP! *

The computer console in a corner of the room chimed loudly.

By some unforeseeable, freak act of fortune, the alarm seemed to distract the shifter for a fraction of a second.

The blade missed Wendy's body.

"WARNING!" The console chimed, in a language that was most certainly _not_ English. "INTRUDERS DETECTED INCONCLUSIVE REFERENCE CODE RETURN THREAT LEVEL UPGRADED TO JELLY ROLL ONE: ERROR 443\\]kl;/oij#JE'~~3Dde~~~"

The Shifter spun toward the computers and began to head toward them, outraged at the improbable, incredible, inconceivable timing of the interruption.

Wendy realized that the blade had actually severed most of the webs.

She threw herself forward, and her left arm ripped free. Her right arm followed it. Then she grabbed a sharp scrap of metal, and with one long slice tore through the material on her legs.

With a final push, her boots landed on the ground with a dull _thud_.

She stood up.

The Shifter glanced back at the human. She saw the tangled, matted hair, the faded blue hat, the clenched fists, the blood-stained lip, the furious little scowl, and the dark, murderous thoughts behind those green eyes. She thought that this was getting a little too complicated and improbable for a standard hostage situation; she should probably time-travel back by about 5 minutes, to find out the source of the alarm ahead of time, and undo her accidental severing of the human's bonds.

Quickly though, before something worse happened.

But she was too late, because something worse was already happening.

There was a brilliant blue flash of light,

a tiny yellow machine was suddenly flying through the air,

And Wendy caught it.

"Who do I think I am? Funny you should ask that…" Wendy smiled, as she ad-libbed a plan and reached for a weapon.

"I'm a flippin' Pines."

* * *

 _Author's Note:_

Okay everyone, in case you couldn't tell, this is kind of... _IT_.

So, I've been thinking: as the story reaches a conclusion, should I be advertising/hyping it anywhere else on the internet? Tumblr, Deviantart, somewhere else? I've put a lot of work into it, and I'd love for as many people as possible to be able to find it, enjoy it, and critique it. I had the idea of making an illustration for each chapter, and post a picture a day leading up to the release of the final couple chapters. What do you guys think? And do you have any other ideas?

Also, as always, please please _PLEASE_ (I'm begging you!) please tell me what you think of the story itself. I'd love to know what I can improve about it, what you like about it, etc. Thus concludes my pathetic cry for human attention. Move along folks, nothing to see here. Have a very nice rest of the day.


	26. The 4-Minute War

_Author's Note:_

 ** _First_** _, I really want to level with you guys here, so let's get something important out of the way:_

I am not dead.

Honestly.

 ** _Second_** _, what's up with this story:_

When I started this story (over a year ago) this story held a certain magic for me. I was getting majorly inspired, and was just totally in love with the characters, and was just POSSESSED by the idea of making them fight killer robots, solve ancient alien mysteries, and prove their friendship, love, and heroism in horrendous, bloody, life-or-death situations. Back then I hadn't written myself into any corners, didn't have any huge grand plans or roadblocks, and felt free to write or do whatever I felt like. It was beautiful.

But then, unfortunately, things changed.

The further I got in, the more confusing and conflicted things became, the more plot points, characters, and time travel nonsense I had to balance, and I started overthinking things. I started rewriting. Rewriting again and again and again. Eventually I hit writer's block major time, got distracted with other things, and my love of the story waned, and… Well, eventually I decided not to update until I'd finished everything, so that I wouldn't leave anybody with any more cliffhangers. That semi-accidental hiatus started more than 5 months ago, and I never intended it to be so long.

But the 5 months have not been empty. I've nearly finished the writing, and I like what I have. Things have been slow, but now we're here.

We're in the endgame.

We're getting an end.

If all goes according to plan, this story will be completed by the end of the month.

 ** _Third_** _, what have I been doing for those 5 months?_

Did you ever read a story and think "man, I wish I had an illustration for EVERY SINGLE CHAPTER"? Well, if you were ever thinking that, then you're in luck, because now there IS an illustration for EVERY SINGLE CHAPTER. Characters, armor, usually backgrounds, alien robot ghosts, the works, all drawn in pencil. I'm releasing one of these pictures every day of July. So we're on the 14th picture as of this writing, and there will probably be more by the time you read this.

Anyway, if you follow me on Deviantart or Tumblr, then you know all about this already. If you didn't, then you'd have no way to know, so I'm posting it here.

Link to my Deviantart (replace spaces with periods): www deviantart com/codylabs

Link to the first picture (replace spaces with periods): www deviantart com/codylabs/art/Welcome-to-the-Forest-745618529

So, there's that.

But there's also something else.

Have you ever ready a story and thought "dude, I wish this story had Legos to go with it"? Well if so, then you're a dork, but you're also in luck, because I MADE A LEGO ROBOT LION! It's big and strong and scary and adorable and about 1.5 times Juan's canonical size. I like to pet it so much. Robots are adorable. Link to video (replace spaces with periods): www youtube com/watch?v=ehxI8Nyl97E

Anyway, so yeah.

But you didn't come here for that. You came here for the rest of the story.

 ** _Forth_** _, my time travel is confusing._

Disclaimer: this next chapter (and the next chapter and the next) ARE confusing. After reading this next one, you will probably be scratching your head, complaining of pains in your higher-brain-functions, and demanding to know why it has to be so dang complicated.

…Well…

I sympathize with your pain. I really do. But I am not sorry. Because, although I really, really, _really_ tried to put it in simple language, I did not try even a little to make the events themselves simple. Simplicity was low priority. The highest priority was writing a time travel story that DOES make sense in terms of logic, rules, and causality, and so that's what I wrote.

Also, the strict rules of time travel mean quite a lot to me, so I compiled an appendix of the rules used by the show. It's organized at this link here (replace spaces with periods):

codylabs tumblr com/post/175874242078/codylabs-guide-to

 ** _Fifth_** _, my concluding words:_

The end approaches. Sorry for the wait, thanks for being patient with me, thanks for taking the time to enjoy the things I created.

I sincerely hope you all enjoyed the story of the Forest of Daggers.

* * *

In the far distant future, high-profile legal and personal feuds are often resolved via participation in the Globnar gladiatorial games, wherein a number of exciting competitive events are played out for the amusement of the masses, and the winner determines the past, present, and future fate of the loser.

One of the most popular events in these games is the so-called 'time-duel', wherein the combatants are given a set of time-weapons, and made to time-fight each other using every method of wit, ingenuity, and cunning at their disposal.

These time-duels follow a very strict set of rules. The fact may not seem particularly evident amidst the chaos of an ordinary match, but it is true; Gladiatorial time-weapons are programmed to prevent users from time-traveling more than a few minutes, or from speeding or slowing the local time-rate by unfair amounts, or from ever allowing multiple instances of a combatant on the playing field at a time.

These rules are in place to aid the linearity of the fight, to prevent either combatant from getting an unfair advantage of paradox, and, of course, to make the fight more entertaining and easier to watch. (It is for a child, after all.)

Outside the gladiatorial games, however, these rules do not apply. In the bitter reality of the future world, there have been minutes-long fights that have taken years, and centuries-long wars fought in a number of miliseconds. Time-missiles are guided by computers that think instantly, enemies are slain as toddlers, cyborgs download detailed logs of fights they haven't yet fought, and everybody may undo and redo life as they please, not only the victors.

Time-war is a thing of utter chaos. As all wars are.

And the 4-minute war was no exception.

* * *

\- Place:

\- Deep within the depths of Crash Site Omega, inner sanctum of the original shapeshifter.

\- Time:

\- 2013 A.D., June 12th, 3:18pm, The First Minute

\- ITERATION 001

A brilliant flash of blue light lit up the room, and a little yellow machine appeared in midair between Wendy and the Shifter, sailing towards Wendy. She caught it in one hand, and glanced at it for only the briefest moment, just to confirm that it was, indeed, that thing she already knew it was: a tape measure with an hourglass symbol and some weird buttons.

She'd heard the stories of these things. She'd known people who'd used them. She'd heard the legends of the empires, the agents, the wars, and the convoluted tangles of twisted fates which surrounded their powers. She'd seen them used. She knew roughly how they worked.

But as for herself, she'd never before actually held one. Never noticed how light and fragile it felt in the palm of her hand. Never seen how simple and unassuming it looked. Never took a moment to appreciate the way that so many large, important, terrible matters could hinge around a single trinket so very, very small…

It was the key; the one final solution to her one great problem. At long last, after all these days of bitter stress and nights of sleepless thought, she'd finally, _finally_ got her hands on a way to bring Dipper back from the dead.

Well… No.

Now she actually had _two_ great problems. Bringing Dipper back was one,

The other was _her._

The mother shapeshifter stood across from her, those dull red eyes fixed on Wendy with a cold, hard, murderous intent. The shifter had killed many. The shifter would kill again. The shifter had seen and done things too mysterious and terrible for weaker creatures to know. The shifter had roamed through time and space on business of its own, for the shifter had a time machine too.

But Wendy was confident, for she thought she knew exactly what all this meant: _Sometime in the next few minutes… This is all going to end. I'm going to win this fight or escape, steal her time machine, come back in time to 30 seconds ago, and toss it to myself. Thus completing a stable time loop with myself as the winner._

That seemed to be the only way it could end. The only way this makes any sort of sense at all. She knew she wasn't smart enough to account for everything in her little prediction, but she prayed that she was right. Prayed that her apparent victory was true.

Wendy unbuttoned and removed her jacket, and tied the sleeves around her waist to give a little more freedom to her movements. Then she glanced across the room toward a little pile of gear in one corner: her axe, a few knives, and that ray gun she'd borrowed from Ford, which he'd probably want back at some point. If she was going to go on the offensive here, she'd need something deadlier than her own fists. Ray gun was best, axe was most familiar, and knives would do in a pinch. But she'd need something.

Then, with as much warning and ceremony as a flash of lighting, the creature lunged at her.

And so did the first minute of the fight begin.

Wendy ducked and rolled out of the way. It was entirely on instinct; a wrestling move her dad had taught her once. While the shifter's claws whiffed through the place her throat had been, she came back up 5 feet away.

Her hand landed on something small and light lying on the floor. Again on instinct, she picked it up and threw it at the enemy's face. As it left her hand, she realized it was somebody's skull. _There ARE a lot of dead bodies in this room, huh?_

But that didn't matter. All that mattered was that the creature was momentarily distracted by swatting the projectile out of the air. Wendy pushed off the wall and sprinted for her weapons, hoping to make the most of the time it had bought her.

But in a fight like this, you can't 'buy' time in the traditional sense. When everybody has a time machine, everybody has all the time in the world.

By which to say, nobody has any time at all.

There was a flash of light, and the creature appeared in front of her, directly over her weapons. Wendy tried to bring herself to a stop, both confused and startled by the apparent teleportation. A wet spot on the floor made her skid and fall on her back, right at the monster's feet. The creature picked up her axe, and raised it to strike.

But then, something odd happened: In her peripheral vision, _another_ Wendy leapt out of the darkness, this one holding a knife. The second Wendy landed on the shifter's back before the other two people in the room could react, and the creature snarled with pain.

From the floor, Wendy frowned up at this second Wendy without quite understanding what was happening. But she was in too much peril to dwell on it long, so instead she pulled out the time-tape, pressed the backward button, and released.

As it so happened, she'd pulled the tape out to a distance of a minute.

 _Voom._

* * *

\- ITERATION 002

There was a blinding flash of light, a rushing of air, and what felt like all reality hiccupping through her bones. A numbness traveled up her arm, the ground seemed to shift by no distance below her back, and her brain endured a moment of paradox as warping causality jumbled her thoughts. But then, in 60 seconds less than no time at all, it was all over.

 _So that's what that feels like._

She found herself lying on the floor, much as she had been… Except now… Now the shifter wasn't standing over her. Now she was out of danger. Now… Now she was back at the start of the first minute. She staggered to her feet as silently and quietly as she could, patted out the spontaneous fire in her hair, and glanced behind her.

There they were: the shifter and herself.

They were standing on the other side of the room, facing each other down. She saw herself catch the time machine. She saw herself look down at it.

All just the way it had happened. Like an instant replay through the eyes of another; utterly surreal.

Without taking her eyes off the past-shifter and past-Wendy, she reached for her weapons, and her hand landed on a knife. She picked it up, and stepped back into the shadows.

She saw past-Wendy dodge the shifter's attack, throw a skull, and dash for the weapons. She saw the shifter casually bat the skull out of the air, then disappear, only to reappear instantly in front of the past-Wendy.

 _Now's about the time I went back in time._ Wendy thought. _Somewhere about now, that mysterious second Wendy saved me… Oh, wait I get it, it's me! It's time! I'M that mysterious second Wendy, and I need to save myself!_

She watched her previous version slip and fall on her back, as the shifter raising the axe for the finishing blow. Wendy would die unless someone jumped in to help. So Wendy jumped in to help. She vaulted off the floor, landed on the shifter's back, and plunged the knife into her neck. Green blood oozed around the knife, and stained her shirt.

The shifter roared in pain and dropped the axe.

Below them, the first Wendy disappeared.

 _I did it! I saved myself! I used nothing but time travel and a knife, and I won!_

Wendy grinned in triumph, and gave the knife a little twist. More blood squirted from the wound.

Suddenly, she felt horrified. _I twisted the knife. Why did I TWIST it? That's like something a freaky sicko would do in a horror movie… I'm not a freaky sicko, am I? I'm not trying to make the monster suffer, I'm just trying to kill it… Kill her… It… Her…_

Wendy's eyes widened as she realized the full enormity of what was happening right now. _Oh my gosh, I'm trying to kill her. I'M LITERALLY TRYING TO DO MURDER!_

Sure, she'd known it before. 'Kill' is an easy word to say, and a simple concept to grasp. Killing isn't mysterious or rare, and it happens all the time in movies and stuff. People get killed; it happens.

But the green blood was warm on Wendy's hands, and for the first time she understood what 'kill' meant. Wrestling is one thing; shooting crossbows at bats is another; attacking robots with magnet guns is another… But to have an intelligent creature, something with feelings and ambitions and a God-given soul, bleed and suffer by your hand, by your _knife_ … that's entirely different. For about the first time, Wendy felt the burden of real violence. It shocked her, shocked her more than she would've expected.

And for just the briefest second, her concentration lapsed. She hesitated; let go of the knife.

Beneath her, the Shifter arched her back into a tangle of spines, like a sea urchin. Their tips stung like thorns as they roughly pushed Wendy off, and she stumbled backwards across the room in a painful daze.

The creature reached one claw up behind her head, and pulled out the knife. The wound liquified, joined back together, and healed over, leaving nothing but an odd, throbbing scar.

"Hmm." The shifter said, as she inspected her own green blood between her fingers. "Bootstrap tactics."

"Uh…" Wendy blinked. "Uh…?"

"What you just did…" The shifter hissed. "You used a stable time paradox for combat. lived to save yourself by virtue of already having been saved… Such methods have been likened to hoisting oneself into the air by pulling on one's own bootstraps… Where did you learn that? Who trained you?"

"Uh… Uh, I dunno…" Wendy shrugged, glancing down at the laces of her own boots. "I guess it just made sense at the time…"

"…You know it's rather foolish to do that." The shifter clicked. "You have to be quite _lucky_ to keep pulling them off… At any point at all, the thing that must happen in order to happen might not happen at all… If you would have died back there, for instance, there would have been no one to save you…"

"Eh… Uh…" The warning to not do that anymore gave her an idea: do that some more. " _I guess I'm just-…_ "

There was a flash of light, and another Wendy appeared in the air, mid-leap. Before the shifter could duck out of the way, this other Wendy wrenched the axe out of her hands, and stepped back to safety.

The first Wendy then began to sprint headlong, straight for the monster. Just before she reached her, she pulled out the tape to 5 seconds back, leapt into the air, and disappeared.

* * *

\- Time:

\- 3:19pm, The Second Minute

\- ITERATION 003:

 _Voom._

Wendy and shifter both looked at the place where Wendy had disappeared.

The fingers on Wendy's right hand twitched on the handle of her axe, while the time machine was getting warm in her left.

"…- _Feeling lucky._ " She finished her own sentence.

The shifter hadn't been offering much resistance during this maneuver, but had merely been watching, almost quizzically. Now she snarled. "If I were you." She snarled. "I'd be more careful."

"Be more careful anyway." Wendy retorted. "This is for real now."

"Brave words."

"Also." Wendy said. "This isn't the part where we talk. This is the part where you _die_."

"I watched you drop the knife. _You're no killer._ "

Wendy had a brief moment of doubt, thinking perhaps that she was right. But then, she decided _no_ : she _was_ a killer. Maybe not forever, maybe never again, but right here, right now, while Dipper's death hung on the brink of being undone, and a great evil stood on the brink of ending all she loved, Wendy could kill. She could live with the images and the sights in her mind, she could live with guilt and murderous thoughts. She could end this day the way it had to end.

She could cross that line.

"Try me." Wendy spat.

"I will." The Shifter growled.

 _Voom. Voom._

All of a sudden, two Wendys appeared, one on either side of the shifter. Both these new Wendys had a bloody right elbow.

 _Voom. Voom._

All of a sudden, two Shapeshifters appeared, one on either side of Wendy. Both these new shifters had a large, reddish burn around their left eyes.

Both these new shifters also immediately lashed out with their claws. Without thinking, Wendy brought her axe up to deflect the claws of the shifter on the left, and kicked out at the one on the right. While the right one was off-balance, she swung her axe at her legs (those seemed pretty thin and fragile). But the swing came up short, because the shifter on the left had grabbed the back of her shirt, drug her backwards, and hurled her toward a nearby wall.

She brought up her arms to shield her head. The jagged edge of a piece of paneling cut open her right elbow, but better an arm than a scalp.

 _OW! Okay._ She spun back around and regarded the two advancing aliens. _If there's two, that means she's repeating through the fight, like some kinda tag-team. Time-tag-team. Time-tag-time-team. That means one of them is fighting this fight for the first time, but the other one knows everything that's about to happen…_

 _Well, when I attacked the right one's legs, it didn't dodge. Instead, the one on the left saved it… So I bet that means the left one is the 'copy'._

Wendy was able to reason that out okay, but she wasn't sure how to apply it. _The 'original' is more ignorant than the 'copy', and therefore more vulnerable. On the other hand, the original can always rely on the copy to save it. But the copy has nobody to help it, which makes it more vulnerable… Who to attack then? Dipper would have known. But Dipper's not here, and I'm not him._

Wendy didn't trust her brain to do anything super intelligent, so she defaulted back to her instincts, trusting them to do something _fast._ She stepped left and swung at the 'copy'.

The 'original' didn't attack or retaliate, she just folded her claws, took a step back, and watched.

As the original watched, a strange sort of focus and calm seemed to come over the copy. She dodged her head to the left, missing the axe by inches. Wendy swung again, but the creature dodged effortlessly right. Wendy swung horizontally, and the copy crouched; the blade went right over her head. Wendy swung for her legs, which stepped away and back forward in the time it took the blade to pass. Wendy brought the axe around a fourth time, and this time the shifter caught her wrist, as if the moves were a nothing but a memorized piece of trivia.

Wendy glanced at the original. _Oh CRAP, I get it! She's been watching! Which means that THIS one has memorized everything I'm about to do!_

Wendy aimed a kick at the creature's knee. The kick did nothing.

 _How the heck do I get out of this?_

 _Wait, that's right, the time machine! I can just come back and save myself!_

Right on cue, another Wendy fired a laser beam directly for the original's head. The copy knew it was coming, and pushed the original out of the way just in time. But while both shifters were busy with the laser, Wendy got the drop on the copy. She put the time machine in her teeth, tossed her axe from her ensnared left hand to her free right, and threw it at the copy's face. Just in time, the original noticed what was happening, which allowed the copy to remember, let go of Wendy, and time-teleport out of the axe's path.

Wendy turned to face the original. Since she now had nobody to help her, the original disappeared too.

For just the briefest moment, Wendy was alone. The room was silent. She took a shaky breath as she turned in a circle, looking for her enemy. But the moment of quiet lasted only a number of seconds, and when it ended, the fight began.

The _real_ fight.

The third minute.

All of a sudden the room was crowded with a whole ton of brawling Wendys, and a ton of shifters too. An enormous stone claw was suddenly jabbing toward her head. Another Wendy tackled her out of the way, and then immediately held up a piece of rubble to shield a writhing mass of tentacles that would have sucked her skin off. Another Shifter then tackled this Wendy off the top of her, and she stood up, confused and overwhelmed.

"GET OUT OF HERE!" Wendy 10's hoarse voice yelled at her from a corner of the room.

Present Wendy began to run. All through the room around her, she saw Wendys and shifters brawling it out. There must be a 6 shifters and probably a dozen of me… _Good grief. When I get to this part of the fight… It's gonna suck._

But she noticed something: all the shifters in the 3rd minute had grievously burned left eyes. And she remembered back to the second minute, to when she'd been ambushed by two shifters at once. She remembered that at the same time, the shifter had been ambushed by two Wendys at once. _Perhaps that's when I'll blast her eyeball…_ Present Wendy came to a stop, pulled the tape out a minute and a half, and released.

* * *

\- ITERATION 004:

Back at the start of the second minute…

"Try me." Number 3 spat.

"I will." The Shifter growled.

 _Voom. Voom._

Wendy found herself exactly where she'd seen herself earlier: standing to the Shifter's left.

 _Voom. Voom._

A future version of Wendy, which must be number 5, appeared simultaneously, standing on the shifter's right.

The beast looked between the two humans. "Done talking indeed…" She mused quietly.

They attacked.

Wendy remembered how the shapeshifter had time-tag-teamed on her the last iteration, so she decided to try the same trick; she would stand back and memorize everything, while Wendy 5 went on the offensive.

5 (who must have gotten her axe back at some point) swung for the head. The shifter stepped back. Wendy 4 noticed she left her legs open, so 5 brought the axe back around for a counter-strike. The shifter deflected it.

Wendy 4 imagined that the shifter must be paying a lot of attention to the axe; she wouldn't be expecting a sudden jab backwards from 5's free hand, and a quick reversal after the next swing. 5 remembered 4's idea, and did exactly that: a jab to the chin, and an immediate turnaround for the Shifter's stomach. The monster dodged the blade once more, but only barely.

Now the Shifter's claws transformed into short, jagged spikes, and she struck back. The spikes struck left, right, left, right, low, and an uppercut that went a little too wide and left her left side open. Even as Wendy 4 watched, Wendy 5 dodged right, left, right, left, deflected the low blow with the axe, and spun around to land the weapon in the creature's open left side. The creature snarled, and healed. But it didn't heal as rapidly as it had from the knife wound earlier… Something about her body must be growing weaker, not able to shapeshift as fast or as well. _Does that mean I'm winning?_

Wendy glanced briefly back toward her weapons, which were still sitting just within the creature's guard. _That ray gun sure would be handy. I need to distract the shifter so that future-me can get it._

Wendy 4 jumped into the brawl, swinging her fists. It didn't accomplish much, and she found herself lying flat a second later, but it bought 5 the opportunity to dive between the shifter's legs, scoop the ray gun off the floor, and come up in a roll behind her.

The shifter glanced backwards.

Wendy 5 pulled the trigger.

A laser blast lit up the room, and the monster's left eye was burned and blinded in a moment. Smoke curled away from the scarred socket, revealing the exact same injury Wendy had seen in the shifter's future versions. She snarled in pain and clutched at its injury, then promptly disappeared.

Wendy found herself on the ground, staring at a panting Wendy 5.

"…Good… Good job." Wendy 4 nodded at her future version.

"Screw you." Wendy 5 growled, between ragged gasps for air.

"…What are you so sore about? I'm you!"

"Because that was super hard, and it was your idea." Wendy 5 glanced across the room, and suddenly raised the ray gun. "Just catch the axe, how 'bout?" She suggested, as she pulled the trigger. Then Wendy 5 pulled out her tape, and promptly disappeared.

'Catch the axe'? 4 frowned.

Then she remembered: the axe she'd thrown at the shifter on the third iteration. She looked over her shoulder just in time to see the event happen, and she caught the axe out of the air as the shifter dodged it. Then, seeing she had nothing more to do at the moment, she took a deep breath to prepare herself for the focus that Wendy 5 would need, and pulled the tape for a minute backward.

* * *

\- ITERATION 005:

"Try me."

"I will."

 _Voom Voom Voom Voom._

"Done talking indeed…"

It all happened again.

But this time, Present Wendy was the one fighting, and Wendy 4 was just the 'other' one watching. The entire fight, the entire minute that just transpired, was so burned into her short-term memory that it was more like reciting lines than fighting at all. Even when she forgot for a moment what to do next, she randomly ad-libbed the exact same thing, sparking a strong and persistent feeling of déjà vu. A surreal experience, only compounded by her panic.

When she'd been watching 5's fight as 4, she hadn't realized how hard this all was for 5. The fight required her to move fast, swing precisely, react ahead of time on no cue, block strikes from a being thrice her strength. Today had already been hard and exhausting, and this wasn't easy to do now. Meanwhile Wendy 4 was just standing there, lifting not a finger to help. It was overwhelming, oppressive to every aspect of her body and mind.

The Shifter's blindingly fast, unforeseeable counterattack would start in a second or two.

Wendy closed her eyes and, on memory, dodged right, left, right, left, deflected the low blow with the axe, and spun around to land the weapon in the creature's left side when she went to wide with a high swing. She opened her eyes and saw the beast snarl, saw the wound heal, saw Wendy 4 glance at the ray gun, and saw Wendy 4 jump in swinging.

The creature made short work of Number 4. Meanwhile Number 5 dove for the floor, rolled between the shifter's legs, grabbed the ray gun, and fired as she came out of the roll.

The creature's eye was burned nearly in two; the second time in the last minute she'd seen the injury appear, and it was no less visceral the second time.

 _Murder._

 _I intend to do murder._

 _…_

 _I do…_

 _Don't I?_

The shifter disappeared, and Wendy 5 didn't feel very inclined to get up after the adrenaline-pumping intensity of that minute. She closed her eyes and gulped oxygen in her moment of rest.

"…Good… Good job." Wendy 4 gasped.

"Screw you." Wendy 5 growled at her.

Wendy 4 looked indignant. "…What are you so sore about? I'm you!"

"Because that was super hard." Wendy 5 explained. "And it was all your idea." Her eyes drifted across the room, to the brawl that Wendy 3 was still fighting with 2 shifters at once. And suddenly, she remembered another detail of that fight: the out-of-the-blue laser shot that had distracted the two beasts long enough to save her life, and the axe she'd thrown. "Just catch the axe, how 'bout?" She mumbled at Wendy 4 as she aimed. Then she fired once, watched to make sure it worked (it did) then pulled out the tape, and released.

* * *

\- ITERATION 006:

She found herself in the same room, some other time, alone. The room was totally dark, save for a few status lights blinking on a computer console.

Some _other_ time…

Wait…

What time even _was_ this?

Without even thinking about it, by complete mistake, she'd pulled the tape out to a day's increment. Which means that she was yesterday… Or maybe she was tomorrow… Uh… Which direction had she gone?

She glanced over at the wall, and saw that the place where she'd been tortured and interrogated earlier. The paneling was clean, instead of covered in shreds of torn spider webbing. _This must be yesterday, then. Which means that none of this happened yet. This was back when I was still bedridden. Before I knew the shifter was free, before I came down here… Way back now, I was safe. I was safe…_

She blinked, suddenly feeling very tired, and worn-out, and overwhelmed by the sheer scale of current events. She remembered the enormous time-brawl she'd witnessed on her third iteration, and realized that it was her next destination, and that it would be a thousand times more terrible than the first snippet of the fight she'd seen so far.

 _What chance do I really have, when I go back to get on with it?_

 _No chance at all… I'm just a dumb kid…_

 _…Do I really HAVE to fight her…?_

 _Can't I just…_

 _Just leave?_

She glanced towards the exit, standing wide open. _This is YESTERDAY. The mother shifter wasn't around yesterday, and we didn't have any beef with each other back then, back now… With any luck, she doesn't even know who I am. I bet I could cut my losses, take my chances, and escape._

 _…_

 _Wait…_

 _Wait, what the HECK, Wendy? How could you THINK that?_ She winced, and shook her head to drive such thoughts away. _Dipper's dead because of her! Because of her and her son… Heck, EVERYONE might be dead by now. Stan and McGucket are probably killed by drones, 'Sam' probably went on to kill Ford and Mabel, and I'm the last one left… So long as either of them still draws breath, my job ain't done!_

 _I HAVE to kill them both!_

 _DIPPER wouldn't have escaped. Dipper would be willing to fight for DAYS to save you. Dipper would lay down his very LIFE for you._

 _Dipper already did._

She pulled the tape for a day forward, and prepared for the hell that was the third minute.

* * *

\- Time:

\- 3:20pm, The Third Minute

\- ITERATION 007:

She appeared in the thick of it. Since it took her half a second to get her wits about her, another Wendy had already moved to block an attack that would have killed her. Soon as she got her sense of direction straight, she fired the ray gun at a shifter across the room, and then leapt at a nearer one, swinging her axe. The one across the room dodged easily, and the nearer one sidestepped her axe, having seen the strike coming long before Wendy even thought of it.

And it went like that for about a minute or so.

But then, for no readily apparent reason, all the other Wendys and Shifters, one after the other, started disappearing. This confused and frightened her for a moment, since she needed her past and future versions for cover and support. So she pulled the tape and followed them all a minute backward in time.

The fight would last for exactly one minute. No more, no less. It would contain only exactly that which she had already seen. The only question was how many times she would have to live that minute to become an entire army.

* * *

\- ITERATION 008:

Wendy 7 became Wendy 8, 8 became 9, 9 became 10, 10 became 11, and all the way up but she didn't bother to count.

She remembered when Wendy 7 needed defense. She saw when she herself would need defense. She saw when the Shifter left herself open. She swung the axe, she fired the gun, she barely stayed out of the claw's reach, and she barely, _barely_ managed to keep herself alive. In her peripheral vision and near future, worse things were brewing.

* * *

\- ITERATION 009:

She popped back in time once more, and encountered the worse things. The Shapeshifter was shuffling it up, taking the form of any variety of otherworldly beasts; a massive insect of living stone that was impervious to ray-gun bolts. Something thin and quick and spidery that darted across the ceiling, too high to get with an axe. A swarm of tentacles with no center to aim for, and suckers that stung like jellyfish. She dealt with each one for mere moments, but future iterations would deal with them more.

* * *

\- ITERATION 010:

This time she stayed back. She hid behind a box in a corner and she WATCHED. She watched like a hawk, and she tried hard, so very hard, to drill every moment before her into her memory. She tried to yell commands or warnings at the other Wendys, but her mouth was dry and sticky, and the other hers didn't listen. She hoped it was because they already knew everything.

The Shifter knew where 10 was hiding, however, and the iteration that looked like a stone bug kicked the box to smash it against the wall. Wendy leapt out of the way at the last moment, but would have then impaled herself on the beast's outstretched spikes, but instead she pulled the tape.

* * *

\- ITERATION 011:

She stayed on the edge of the fight this time, and fired the ray gun at anything slimy she saw. She kept firing for several seconds, draining almost all of the weapon's power, but then stopped. She lowered the weapon, confused and distraught. For beyond all belief or chance, the shifter had dodged every single shot. The walls were pockmarked with scorch marks now, but the creature was untouched. Wendy decided to save the gun's last shot for a more opportune time.

* * *

\- ITERATION 012:

Wendy was back in the thick of it again, and she couldn't move the axe fast enough. For every attack she made herself, her enemy applied 3 more. Wendy messed up a few times. Each time she got hurt.

But the Shifter never got hurt.

* * *

\- ITERATION 013:

So much happened so fast.

 _It would take days to describe the entirety of a fight like this, and I doubt I'll even remember much of it myself._ That was the only thought she had time to think on this iteration.

* * *

\- ITERATION 014:

The Shapeshifter was dodging every swing of the axe; Wendy couldn't touch her. Was she _just that smart?_ Did she train herself to remember somehow? Adapt, mutate, specialize her own mind to the point where she could multitask an entire battle all in a moment? That was a skill which Wendy imagined would take years of training to perfect in a human mind; a skill that she herself certainly didn't have. The Shifter must possess a truly unheard-of level of intelligence to be able to do it so well.

Or was it something else? _On Iteration 5, I burned her eye pretty easily. But ever since, she's been this way. All-knowing, fast as lightning, untouchable, invincible. Something's up. She's too good…_

Either way, Wendy always seemed to be on the defensive, desperately and clumsily fending off an unending barrage. She came to understand that she was facing a superior foe.

 _Was I wrong about being destined to win?_

 _No…_

 _No I can't! I NEED to win! I need to already have won! I have the time machine, don't I? Somebody or something created the distraction for me to escape, didn't they? I grow up to be a time-traveling warrior married to a man who's currently dead, don't I? I DO! I've SEEN IT!_

 _But what if I'm wrong…?_

The final question clawed desperately at the inside of her mind, screaming and crying in impotent desperation.

* * *

\- ITERATION 015:

A scratch appeared on Wendy's arm. A cluster of excruciating stings on her other arm. Something hit her on the back, which she couldn't see, but it burned. A blade opened her shin, she hit her head, she tasted blood. Not all that happened in Iteration 15, but it was on Iteration 15 that the pain all finally went to her head and she gasped for breath, biting her tongue to keep from crying out 'I just can't do it!'

More adrenaline forced itself through her veins, and somehow kept her fighting.

* * *

\- ITERATION 016:

One more minute of more of the same.

* * *

\- ITERATION 017:

She wasn't dead yet. Not quite yet.

* * *

\- ITERATION 018:

She'd been wrong earlier; this wasn't 'hell'.

It wasn't nearly hell. Hell is where the wicked and the ungodly go to suffer, as justice for their evil. There is no escape and no hope in hell.

This wasn't hell, no, this was _war_. In war, you can just barely hold on to your hope. You can believe in escape, believe in victory, believe that perhaps some way, somehow, you might just have a chance to push through, conquer, survive, and achieve some greater goal or significance from your struggle.

But Wendy (having never been to hell) did not consider this distinction. As far as she was concerned, war was more than close enough.

* * *

\- Time:

\- 3:21pm, The Fourth Minute

\- ITERATION 019:

For the past 12 iterations, and their equated 12 minutes of war and single third minute elapsed in real time, Wendy had been fighting with her brawn and her instincts and her raw desperation. And in each one of those iterations, she'd ended the brawl by cycling back to do it again. But this time… This time she realized she couldn't beat the Shifter by force; the beast was too good, and the uncertain luck of memory and time loops and 'bootstrap tactics' wasn't enough. It was a fight she was losing, and as the only soldier in this war, she couldn't afford to lose.

So this time, partially as a tactic, partially out of curiosity, but mostly from fatigue, she stayed.

She saw every single other Wendy, one by one, pop back in time to fight the third minute again. Likewise, all but one of the shapeshifters jumped back for another round too.

The third minute ended.

So now, Wendy and the Shifter found themselves alone. No more paradoxical clutter of future and past versions underfoot, none of this time-looping nonsense, none of the confusion. For now, they were back to being just the two of them. Living singularly and linearly, just as every mortal being in history has always naturally done.

Just the two of them.

 _Like a blank slate. Like starting the fight all over again… Except now I'm hurt all over, and she's all but fine…_

Wendy gripped the time machine a little tighter, ready to activate a jump at the first sign it might be useful. She stared down her enemy, trying to size her up, read any hint as to her next move. And that was when a weird thought suddenly crossed her mind: _Hey wait a dang blasted minute here, WHERE the heck is HER time machine? I can see both her hands, and they're both empty…!_

Then she noticed a small, fleshy fold in the center of her creature's chest, right below the ribs. There was an orifice of some kind there, like a kangaroo pouch flexed closed. Behind the orifice, a faint blue glow was rising through her skin. _Oh I get it._ Wendy thought. _She's hiding it inside her, enveloped like some kinda weird organ. She probably pulls the tape with some little ingrown tongue, or… Geez, that's extremely gross, honestly…_

As Wendy thought, her adversary was thinking too.

And the shifter was annoyed. _How is the enemy so persistent?_ She wondered. _So many times I strike so perfectly, aim a blow that by rights should kill her instantly. But then she always just summons another future version, saving her own life and perpetuating the fight yet longer. That stupid move, that clumsy, uncertain bootstrap tactic always seems to work out for her, and it's the only thing keeping her alive…_ The Shifter pondered the issue for a moment, and came up with a strategy. _If I can negate her time-travel ability, even for a moment, then I'll negate this 'luck', and be able to strike the finishing blow._ The beast crouched just slightly into a ready stance, and prepared for her final attack.

Wendy matched the stance, and got the sudden strange feeling that this was going to be the actual end of the fight. For real this time.

The Shifter took a deep breath.

Wendy took a deep breath too.

 _If this is the ending, then we'll find out how it ends._

They rushed each other.

There was a brief sound of grating, ringing, and clacking between the claws and the axe. Then, in a single moment when Wendy was overextended in a swing, the Shifter reached out and struck the time machine from her hand.

The little device flew through the air and clattered to a stop on the other side of the room.

And that was it.

There was a strange moment of stunned silence in the room. The Shifter stood in triumph, and Wendy stood in dumbstruck confusion, as she looked down at her bruised and empty hand, and realized that _she was a time-traveler no more._ Now she was nothing but a little girl again, standing before a powerful enemy who could kill her a dozen different ways in as many seconds. She couldn't dodge anymore. She couldn't save herself anymore.

The fight was over.

The Shifter transformed her right claw into jagged, bony spear, something between a knife and a harpoon, and brought it back for the finishing blow.

 _Fine then._ Wendy frowned. _I'll just take YOURS._

With all her strength, she shoved her fist up into the Shifter's chest. Somewhere inside, her fingers wrapped around the time-tape. The creature screeched in confusion.

The spear lashed forward and skewered Wendy through the belly. Wendy screamed in pain.

The sides of the orifice transformed into teeth, and bit down on Wendy's intruding wrist.

In desperation, Wendy pulled for all she was worth. The teeth left jagged scratches down her arm, but her arm came out. The Shifter's time-tape tore loose from the tendons bonding it in place, popped out of the monster's stomach with a sickening little _splort_ , and now _Wendy was the time-traveler._

 _VOOM._

* * *

\- ITERATION 020:

As Wendy 20 appeared to the Shifter's right, she was only thinking one thought, and that was _murder._ She swung the axe. In one clean stroke, the blade sliced through the shifter's arm, separating the spear in a spurt of green blood.

Now freed, Wendy 19 stumbled backwards, staring at the slimy appendage still protruding from her belly.

* * *

\- ITERATION 021:

The Shifter turned to attack Wendy 20, but before she could so much as stop the bleeding in her right stump, 21 appeared, and swung the axe into the small of her back. Then, still acting in blind rage, 21 pulled it loose and swung again.

Wendy 19 recalled dad telling her that if you have a knife wound, you shouldn't pull it out right away, because the blade actually serves to plug a lot of the bleeding. You're supposed to leave it in until you can get medical attention. She resisted the urge to touch the spear.

* * *

\- ITERATION 022:

Wendy 22 appeared, and went for the head. A wide strip of slimy white scalp came loose about the blade, revealing bare, bloody bone. That was disturbing, and horrendously screwed up, but Wendy was far too furious and bloodthirsty to care.

Wendy 19 broke the spear off just above the skin, and a cry escaped her lungs as the pain temporarily overwhelmed her.

* * *

\- ITERATION 023:

As Wendy 23 appeared and chopped the legs from out underneath the monster, she realized the axe was getting dull.

The monster realized that she was being rapidly and literally torn to shreds.

The ground was covered in green blood.

The smell was almost as bad as the sickening sounds of chopping and cutting.

Stanford had seen enough, so he turned away and hurried back down the tunnel, quiet as he could, swearing to himself that all this horror would be worth it in the end.

Wendy 19 saw that the spike hadn't plugged all the bleeding. Her hands were getting slippery with red. She moved her jacket a little higher up her midsection, and gave the sleeves a hard tug to tighten it into a bandage. _Ooh that hurt._ But good enough.

* * *

\- ITERATION 024:

The Shifter fell to her side, bleeding from innumerable gashes and wounds. She couldn't seem to bond her cells well enough to change forms, let alone heal. Wendy 24 pulled out the ray gun, pushed it into the opening where the time machine had been, and fired the last shot directly into the monster's innards.

Wendy 19 gave her makeshift bandage another tug, and staggered to her feet. She looked down at the Shifter's time machine, and decided it seemed undamaged enough to use.

She picked up her axe, and fired the machine for 30 seconds backwards. As she disappeared, she was only thinking one thought, and that was _murder._

19 became 20, 20 became 21, and all the way up until 24 became 25.

And 25 was the last.

* * *

\- ITERATION 025:

The other iterations disappeared.

Wendy 25 was the very last.

She stood above her fallen adversary, and knew that she'd WON.

And thus ended the Forth minute of the 4-minute war.

* * *

Drip.

Drip.

Drip.

It wasn't water trickling from some pipe, not dew falling from a tree or the distant gurgling of the runoff from some stream.

It was blood, green blood. Dripping slowly from her hands.

In one hand, she held her axe; well-used and slightly blunted now, slippery with vile liquid. In her other, she held the time machine that she'd pulled from the center of the monster. It was still covered in slime and sinew and blood, and it reeked like death and burning grease. The creature really _had_ been making it a part of her body. This machine was the single most disgusting thing Wendy had ever held, yet perhaps the most hard-won.

She limped over to the opposite corner of the room, to where the first time machine had landed. Every step equated to an explosion of pain through her midsection, from the alien limb still embedded there. _Okay… Okay, I have to get out of here. Find a way to stop the bleeding… Get… Something… Just… Just first I gotta get the time machine… Hey, wait a minute…_ With a confused frown, she picked up the tape, and compared it to the one she'd just stolen.

The first one had a weird little dent on top that the stolen one didn't. The stolen one had a few scratches on the bottom, and slimy organic material grown into its sides, which would be all-but impossible to clean, which means…

They're not the same one.

 _Not the same one? How did that make sense…?_

Wendy slowly put it together.

 _Oh. THIS one must be the one she gave to her son. That means… That means after I'm done here, I'm gonna go kill him. I'm gonna kill him just like I killed her, and take his, and bring it back here… The time-loop doesn't close until both of them are dead._

 _That means…_

 _That means I'm only halfway done with today._

 _I've gotta do that all again. To him._

With a furious little yell, Wendy threw the gross machine to the ground, and smashed it with the axe. Sparks fizzled from its circuitry, and a few grams of swirling, purplish cosmic sand emptied onto the floor from its cracked fuel tank. The glowing hourglass symbol went dark.

 _I've gotta kill him._

She looked back at the body of the mother Shifter.

 _Well, what're you waiting for, Wendy?_ She prodded herself. _You've got work to do… Get going._

But despite her resolve, she didn't move. For suddenly, she realized that she was very, very tired. She was so drained, her enemy looked so helpless and hurt, and the future and the past combined to make such a burden. She couldn't help but ease down on the floor and lean into the wall. The adrenaline drained steadily from her body, leaving her filled with nothing but pain.

There was physical pain, every injury that pockmarked her body, all centered around the spear.

But more than that, there was the pain of the soul: the _shame_ … She looked down at her hands, covered in blood. _These hands have done murder. Look at them, I can't even tell the color of my own skin in this light; it's all just blood. Drying and thickening as I watch._ A drop trickled into her eye. When she tried to wipe it out, it smeared all over her face, and now she felt the filth everywhere, and it was disgusting. _I want a shower. A good, long shower. But I'll never be able to wash my soul. I'll still remember this sick feeling, remember how it feels to be covered in viscera, and know that I have killed…_

 _Killed…_

 _Wendy the killer…_

 _Destined to kill again…_

She began to weep.

After a minute or so, she puked as well, and there was blood in her vomit. Red mixed with the yellow that mixed with the green. She cried and cried and the nightmares slipped in behind her waking eyelids. Her stomach throbbed around the spear. She tried to scream.

Life was horror.

"Hmm." The shapeshifter mused.

Through blurred vision, Wendy glanced back up at her enemy.

The hideous, mutilated head had turned toward her. The monster's brain must have been all or mostly intact somehow, because she was still able to speak. That voice, though faint and gurgling now, was still just as malevolent, just as hard, as ever it had been. "There's something I think you should know." She said. "A detail you might have missed."

Wendy could barely muster the strength for a spiteful growl.

"Look at the machine in your hand. It has a switch on the side."

Wendy wiped her eyes, and glanced down. Now that she brought it up, there _was_ a small switch on the side of the device… Its two sides were labeled 'STA' and 'UNS'.

"It represents the machine's two methods of backward time-travel." The Shifter explained. "'Stable' and 'unstable'. In 'stable' mode, the device functions as you have used it: transporting the user's entire body backward in time while preserving geographical location. In unstable mode however, the device attempts to save fuel by transporting only the user's mind and memories back in time, neglecting the physical body… The replacement also serves to destabilizes spacetime, thus allowing for easier changes to the past… Like saving in a video game, yes?"

"…?" Wendy made a noise that sounded like a question mark. Not much more than a tired, confused exhale.

"You had yours on 'stable' this entire time." The shifter coughed. "Whereas I was switching mine back and forth. 'Stable' to add an iteration, and 'unstable' to refine that iteration. Remove mistakes, add knowledge, perfect every single detail and movement. That's how I was so untouchable and invincible for so long… If you were able to overcome me, with no training and no prior knowledge, if _these_ are the extent of your instincts… Then either you are a warrior on par with the Nortusk raiders of Atarzak's fifth moon… Or it is simply a matter of destiny…"

"Wha…" Wendy blinked. "Why…?" She took a moment to compose herself, and managed to choke out a sentence. "W-w-why you telling me this…?"

"Just a handy tip…" The Shifter chuckled. "One monster to another."

"What… Whassat supposed to mean…?" Wendy asked, knowing exactly what she meant. "We… I… Nothing like you."

 _Murderer._ She thought to herself.

 _Murderer._ The shifter silently gloated.

"But… No… No, no, it's not like that. See, I did this all for _him_ …" Wendy weakly claimed. "For… _For love_ … Or whatever…"

The shapeshift stared at her for a moment.

And she stared back at the shapeshifter. One of the creature's eyes was burst and blind, and the other one was bloodshot and swollen nearly shut. But the remaining gaze still had an intensity and an incredible hardness to it. As Wendy stared into that eye, she felt as if she were beholding a cruel and bottomless pit, pitiless and hungry, indestructible and unfathomably evil, utterly and eternally devoid of all light. A monster to end all monsters, that nobody could ever love.

"I have loved." The monster said quietly.

Wendy blinked.

"You find yourself standing near the end of your despair." She continued. "Remembering love, and peace, and longing for a time when you a reason to laugh and dance… I've felt those same things… I have stood where you stand. I've done as you have done. I've been who you are… And I wish you better luck than I. May you find compassion and selflessness. May you dodge the wrath of God. May the curses they fling come up empty. May you not allow the gifts of fate to go to waste…"

"You… You… W-what…?" Wendy winced. "Are you… You _helping_ me now…?"

"The time-tape's unstable mode. It has a range of roughly one week, beyond which it is no longer able to mind-replace." The Shifter smiled. "But that's more than sufficient for your needs, don't you think?"

Wendy frowned for a moment.

 _Oh._

 _She's talking about when I go back._

 _She's talking about redoing this week, and undoing Dipper's death. She just told me how to DO it… She's helping me? She IS helping me! She wants me to win. But how does that make any sense…? She wants me to go find her son and kill her son? Why would she want that? Is she that much of a sadist? I don't get it, I don't get it… WHAT?_

A strange rumbling sound began to rise from the shifter's throat. She coughed up a bit of blood, and now the sound was coming out clearer, and Wendy realized she was _laughing._

 _That wasn't right. You aren't supposed to be helping me, and you're SURE as heck not supposed to be LAUGHING!_

But she _was_ laughing. And laughing harder. Her broken, twisted, bloody body twitched and shook. "What the HECK is so funny?!" Wendy demanded, but she got no answer. Instead, the creature's spastic shuddering broke open whichever of her many wounds had just barely healed up, and she began to bleed again. "You're…" Wendy coughed. "You're just killing yourself, stop laughing!"

She didn't stop.

She was killing herself.

But Wendy realized that she didn't _really_ care. So she just sat there for a minute, staring at the death in stoic, remorseless apathy, uncaring of how disgusting or horrible the sight might be.

It wasn't until the Shifter's breath began to fail that Wendy put it together.

 _She WANTS me to undo Dipper's death, because undoing his death means undoing HERS too._

 _My victory today was utterly empty. In every sense of the word._

Wendy gripped her hand against the wall, and, using her axe like a walking stick, forced herself to her feet, neglecting the pain in her stomach. "You. Jerkwad." She growled. "You twisted. Wrong. Diseased. Perverted. Psychotic… _Monster_ …"

"Go about your business, Ice Bag…" She wheezed. "And when they ask what happened, tell them the HOURGLASS has numbered your days…"

The laughter continued until the end.

Until the creature's body crossed that final threshold that all life eventually must; the threshold where microscopic cells no longer receive their necessary oxygen, and the heart retains no ability to pump, and the brain cannot help but wink into silence.

Her laughing slowly tapered off and ceased, leaving the room silent. Her body stopped moving. Her eyes lost their shine as moisture evaporated. The pale, translucent mucus layer across her body appeared to finally go 'limp', leaving a drooping carcass of equal parts flesh and fluid, oozing across the floor.

And in that moment, Wendy felt the burden of everything she'd done. Likewise, she felt the burden of everything she was _about_ to do: get back up out of the maze of this ship, find Sam wherever and whenever he may be, kill him, take his time machine, come all the way back down here to the start of the battle, give it to herself, save her friends, save the day, save Dipper, yadda yadda…

Kill Sam.

Kill… Oh… Oh, it was too terrible; _I never want to kill again. Killing isn't right for kids to do… Maybe it isn't right for women to do… Maybe it isn't right to do at all… Sure, somebody has to do it, but I never again want it to be me… But… But maybe it's a part of me now…_

 _Maybe it's a part of me now._

Some of the shifter's blood had gotten into the corners of her mouth, and it tasted a lot like her own blood.

 _Maybe SHE'S a part of me now._

 _Please God…_

 _Please let this day end soon._

With a hunch and a limp and one arm held against her stomach, she forced herself to begin the long journey up the passage.


	27. Farewell Savage Fate

_Author's Note:_

All right, this chapter is gonna be the single longest one in the tale (I usually aim for 12 pages, this is 21ish), and with slightly above-average confusion to boot. But it kind of has to be, because a lot of important things happen. Many a subplot, character arc, time loop, and strange little mystery have their resolution here, so I think it'll be best to give them all at once, so that they're still fresh in your memory as your making sense of them.

Also, there's a song at the end. It's a real song, and I only tweaked the lyrics a teeny-tiny bit (changed one name and removed cussing).

Yeah, I listen to a lot of Johnny Cash. So what if I accidentally turned my sci-fi adventure into a musical? Just roll with it, dawgs; Johnny Cash is OG.

Honestly, it's my fault for making this so complex. I will make enormous efforts to keep my next story simpler.

* * *

\- Time:

\- 2013 A.D., June 12th, 2:50pm (you don't really need to pay attention to the times, they're there for MY benefit.)

\- Place:

\- Crash Site Omega (control room)

 _-Warning: Intruders have begun Reactor 5 startup. Power output: 5% and rising. Coolant levels sufficient._

 _-Warning: Intruders have access to all remaining ship systems and engines._

 _-Input: Assign bioforms 3 and 4 a threat level of 20. Combat preference: Immediate lethal force. You are clear to engage. Take no survivors._

 _-Threat reassessed. Antimatter pellets loaded and launchers charged. Drones 155, 157, 158, 163, 164, 174, 175 and 179 engaging._

The 8 drones did exactly as they had been instructed, without a briefest moment's hesitation. They hovered quietly out of the darkness, their eyes fixed on the entrance to the control room, their weapons hot, their minds already visualizing the battle.

Intruder 3, whom friendly faces knew as McGucket, was still busy at the computer, and would not be able to react in time. A single antimatter round could penetrate his torso and explode, killing him instantly. Stan, identified as intruder 4, remained catatonic in the chair; even if he were to wake up now, he would not be able to offer much resistance. Another antimatter round would terminate him.

Two shots. That's all that was needed. Each drone loaded four for good measure.

But then something happened.

A brilliant flash of blue light lit up the control room. McGucket jumped backwards from the controls, startled and frightened. _Did I just do that? This alien tech must be touchier than it looks…_ But then when he looked hard at the readouts, nothing seemed to have changed… All the settings and feedback were just where he'd left them… But then he noticed something really quite odd: The plasma beam weapon that had been leaned beside him was no longer there. He glanced around. Stan didn't have it. Where did it go? What happened? It was right he—

The sound of eight simultaneous explosions echoed through the room. He heard debris rattling against the walls from outside, saw a scrap of burned wreckage bounce in past the doors, and shards of plating and chunks of robotic innards clattering to the ground outside.

Stanley was awake in an instant. "HI HEY NO PLEASE SUSAN I COULDN'T…! *Snrf* …Heeeey, can't a fella get any sleep around here?"

"I dunno whatappened!" McGucket cried, rushing toward the door with Stan on his heels. "Whasappenin' whatwassat noise whosthere whereintarnashin my death ray run off to?"

They looked out. Stan didn't remember it being quite so warm and smoky. McGucket didn't remember there being quite so many burned, smashed piles of robotic wreckage.

He also didn't remember leaving his death ray out here. Yet there it was, sitting on the floor at his feet, that very same tool he'd misplaced seconds ago.

McGucket picked it up and found that it was lighter; its fuel tanks were nearly empty. And a quick check of the electrical charge revealed that the batteries were almost wasted as well.

The ignition chamber was still warm.

"Well I'll be a pork-bellied feather-hearted dingleberry… What in the name of me Pappie's gibberflunked bramblesnippin' Mississippi combine just happened?"

"You need to keep better track of that thing." Stan told him.

"Did _you_ just do that just now?" McGucket asked.

"Did who do huh? Did something happen?"

"Wha-? But… The thing…? Oh my, lookit these poor robits…"

Stan made a long string of confused grunkley noises. "Welp, I'm in over my head. You got a brother I could call? I mean… A phone I could brother? I mean… Agh, can't talk today. Hey waitaminute, where are the kids?"

"Yeh can't get service down here…" McGucket reminded him. "Oh yeah, and them two teenagins said they's was curious 'bout somethin', and ran off that-a-way." He pointed off into the darkness.

"…Aaaagh. Dumb kids. Don't they know there's killer robots down here? …Okay; so you're _sure_ something blew all these things up?"

"Well yeah, an' I think it may've used my plasma beam ta do it!" McGucket objected. "But I can't rightly figger how they got it right out from under my nose, or 'ow they did it so fast. Y'know this thing needs a moment to prime, a little bit ta charge, and even longer ta cool down, so it woulda taken a while ta do all this, but I believe I heard the events occur simultaneously, and…"

"Yeah, yeah, alright, _listen_ , pal I've been living in a cramped ship's cabin with my nerdy brother for the better part of a year now, and I have developed an _extremely_ short fuse for technical mumbo-jumbo. So here's how it is: if somethin's weird, you say 'somethin's weird' and stop there. Savvy?"

"Err… Sorry… Somethin's weird." McGucket said.

"Great. _Weird_. We know weird. We can _handle_ weird. Ain't nothin' wrong with _weird_." Stan pulled the doors closed behind them as they stepped into the control room. "Now. In case some _maaaaagical death-ray-stealing mischief fairies_ wanna pay us another visit, I'll leave it open a crack so we can hear 'em coming."

"Sounds good…" McGucket wrung his hands together as he stepped back up to the console. "Well… Actually, I think I got the programmin' all finished. The reactor should be workin' again. The gravitational nacelle has been calibrated to focus on the Forest of Daggers, and-"

"So what yer SAYIN' is…" Stanley crossed his arms. "This whole joint's gonna get weird once ya push that big red button."

"…Yeah."

"Better wait 'till the kids are back then."

"…I could run it through a test sequence…" McGucket scratched his chin. "Bring the core up to 50% output ta test for malfunctulations and stir up some noise; get 'em back here faster."

"Yeah. Great. Do that."

McGucket hit the big red button.

It started quiet and built in intensity; an enormous, rumbling sort of hum, which thundered through the frame of the ship, shaking the walls, steadily overcoming all lesser noise.

McGucket turned it off again after a minute.

Stan adjusted his hearing aid. "That was a little loud." He understated.

"Yeah, well, I reckon the coolant compressors had some corrosion, and the hydraulics were nearly rusted shut, so that's my guess as to why…"

"Geez, you just take any little thing as an excuse to start in on it, don't ya?" Stan grunted.

"Sorry."

A noise from beyond the door interrupted them. It sounded like gunfire. From a raygun. Raygunfire.

"OKAY WHAT WAS THAT?!" Stanley picked up a weapon, and marched for the door. "That better not be you stupid fairy brats again! Because I swear, this is getting on my last nerve! C'mon out and show yourself!"

But when he levered the hatch open, he froze in surprise.

"Ford?"

"Stanley?"

* * *

\- Time:

\- 2013 A.D., June 12th, 4:30pm (it doesn't really matter when this was, but plotwise it happened before.)

\- Place:

\- Ford's study, beneath the Mystery Shack (time and place where Sam happened to locate Ford)

Mabel stared up at the shapeshifter for a minute. Then she blinked, rubbed her eyes, and looked again. _Yeeeah, that's him alright._

She didn't know why he was here, who let him out of the bunker, or what he was doing here. To be honest, she hadn't even a faint inkling of what the heck happened at all while she was asleep. _Gee whiz, spend one afternoon in a coma, and now the single nastiest and scariest monster I've ever met is right in here in the Shack…_ She had quite a lot of questions, but Great Uncle Ford or anybody was nowhere around to answer them. There was only this creature, this hideous, frightening… Thing.

Oh well.

She may as well just ask.

"Hi guy!" She smiled, forcing a smile onto her face. _Be Mabel._ She thought. _Just like Dipper told you. Be Mabel. Think good thoughts… This IS gonna end up okay. One way or another._ "How's it going?" She asked, as her cheery words forced past her fear. "When did you get here?"

Sam hadn't been expecting a question like that. In fact, he hadn't expected even a hint of this cheery disposition. Unsure of how to react, he found himself answering candidly. "Twenty minutes ago…"

"Okay! Uh…!" She hopped down from her chair and stretched her sore neck as she glanced around the room. "Have you seen my Great Uncle? He was just here I think."

"…He's gone."

She blinked. "Well yeah, I can see that; did you see where he went?"

"I think I kindnapped him." He heard himself answer truthfully again.

"Whaaaat…?" Mabel frowned up at him skeptically. "How in pig's name are you _not sure_ if you kidnapped somebody?"

"Well, I…" Sam blinked down at the little girl. "…He disappeared. I'm sure it was me who did it, or who _will_ do it. And… I… Uh." He looked down at the yellow time machine in his hands, and felt himself descending ever deeper into confusion.

Mabel followed his eyes. Her jaw dropped and she gasped loudly. "What…! You! Wha! That's no tape measure! THAT'S A TIME MACHINE! You have a time machine! You really have one! For real! Where'd you get it?"

"Y-yes. I… My mother gave it to me, I—"

"You have a mother?! What's she like?!"

"I-wha-hey!" He finally found his focus again, reminded himself that he was in charge, and drug the conversation back on-topic. "YES. I have a time machine." He repeated, clicking his teeth. "And I've been using it to remake my life as I will… I took Ford, I outsmarted all of you, and now, I have everything I want…"

Before she had time to feel intimidated, Mabel started talking again. "This is so awesome…!" She smiled, as her brain but together a plan. "Yes… YES! With a time machine, we can save him! It's perfect! This fixes everything! We have a TIME MACHINE! Man, your mom must be AWESOME! Is it your birthday? Or is it Christmas? Do aliens have Christmas in June? Summermas? Where did she buy it?"

"…Calm down." Sam frowned at her.

"Saaaay new friend, could I actually borrow that thing for a minute?" Mabel pleaded. "It's really really reallyreallyreallysuperduper important."

"Calm down." He repeated.

"I'll give it right back and everything!" She promised as she reached for it. "But my brother kind of died a couple days ago so I really need to save him. It's really kind of urgent so would that be alright? You could come too if you want!"

"QUIET!" He reached out a hand and pushed her away. She stumbled right over on the floor, and almost hit her head on the corner of a table as she went over. Sam blinked, surprised. _Oops. She's weaker than I thought. I almost hurt her; I didn't mean to hurt her… Wait, why DIDN'T I mean to hurt her? Of course you mean to hurt her! You're HERE to hurt her…!_

"You're a fool." He growled out loud. "You're asking me to loan you _this?_ To save your brother?…" _I'm here to hurt her._ "Don't you know who I am and what I've done?"

She stared at him blankly. "Well… Yeah, you're the shapeshifter guy…? You kinda-"

"My name is _Sam_ , and I'm your _enemy_." He explained. "And as for what I've done, did you know your brother's death was no accident?" He held up the machine. "I just used this to kill him, stupid. He's dead because of ME. And I'm proud of it. Because I hated him."

Mabel eased slowly up to a sitting position in one corner of the room, and then even slower to her feet. "Oh…" Her voice became small and flat, as she considered this latest revelation for a minute. "Oh." She finally repeated.

He nodded. "Now what do you think of that?"

"Well… Uh…" Mabel's shoulders shuddered briefly. "That's… Kind of… Mean."

Sam wasn't sure if he'd heard that right. "Mean."

"Yeah, pretty mean…" Mabel informed him. "Like… Pretty selfish too… Most people would be… Nicer than that."

The two little orifices on the top of his head emitted a snort. Mabel supposed that they must be his nostrils. "Are you… _Brain_ dead?" He asked, as his fangs clicked in amusement. "You _do_ realize what I'm saying, don't you? That I _killed_ your brother in cold blood? That I'm _going_ to kill your uncle? That your _own_ fate is subject to my whim…? You _do_ understand… Don't you?"

Mabel wrung her hands inside her sweater sleeves. "…Yeah." She said. "I get it."

"…Then why aren't you thinking dark thoughts?"

 _Dark thoughts…_

Mabel recognized those words. Robbie once said those words. The day that Dipper died, Robbie had stolen her joy with those words. The day she'd brought Robbie along on her happy little adventure, and sent him down into the bunker, he'd come back with those words… Mabel finally put it all together.

"Oh…" She said. "That wasn't Robbie, that was you… That was when you got out…" Her voice got small. "I let you out."

"Give the young lady a prize."

"Uh… Oh… I'm really sorry… I mean! Uh, no, not sorry, I mean good for you! Hi! Welcome to the surface world! Uh… Ooh. Gee. Awkward…"

There was silence for a moment in the room, as the girl and the monster looked at each other, neither one precisely sure what next to do or say. Finally Mabel spoke up again.

 _"_ So… Uh… Besides for killing people, what are you doing?" The girl asked. "Like… I'm still kind of confused, and time travel is really complicated so… What's going on?"

Sam looked at her.

"Well…" He started. "I was just taking care of some business. Making sure that things happened the way they were supposed to. Making sure I got to where I am today. Controlling your very lives."

"…You can't control my life." Mabel frowned.

"Oh, but I can. In fact, I already have… Do you remember this?" He produced a small metal box, popped it open, and removed the robot kitten, of all things.

"Oh… Uh… Hi Juan!" Mabel waved at the little metal creature.

Sam stuffed it unceremoniously back in the box. "You loved it so much that I can use it to manipulate you. I saved it when your family tried to kill it… And now… Oh, I have a wonderful idea! What if I were to give it back to you the next night, with a note attached to it that said you needed to take action? What if that was the spark that lit the fire inside you? What if that were the reason you first launched on your hairbrained quest and accidentally freed me? What if…"

Sam walked over to one of the computers in Ford's study, and booted it up. When a data entry program appeared, he began to type. "How about it? Am I talking nonsense, or truly writing history here?" He finished typing, and hit another button.

A nearby old-timey printer began to chatter, and it noisily emitted a single small piece of paper. "There!" Sam held up the note and shoved it in Mabel's face. "Is that the note? Does that sound like something nice enough to get you to do something stupid?"

Mabel read it.

 _Enjoy the time you have with him._

 _Because it's not right for him to stay here long._

 _Find a good place for him, Mabel. We believe in you._

 _Be wise and loving. Be his hero. Save his life._

Mabel read it a second time.

"Uh…" She mumbled. "Yeah… That's the note… Hmm. Oh."

"Well then." Sam pulled out the time machine, and disappeared in a flash of light.

Mabel blinked and stared at the place where he'd been standing.

She took a step back, and found herself all the way in the corner of the room.

 _I always just thought it was an honest, well-meaning invisible wizard who did that._ She pounded her forehead with her fists. _I just thought 'hey, there must actually be some decent, happy people somewhere in the world'… But it was all a lie. Everything I did, it was just a random, convoluted, pointless wild goose chase that accomplished nothing except ruining everything._

 _But… Wait… If Sam DIDN'T give me that note, then I WOULDN'T have done anything, and I WOULDN'T have freed him and he WOULDN'T have given me that note! …But since he DID give me that note, I DID free him, so he DID give me that note… It's just a weird random circle that happened for no reason except itself! Dang it time travel! Why you gotta be so complicated?!_

 _…Well… Actually, this entire thing relies pretty heavily on me being stupid. I was so bent on being kind, so determined to find niceness and happiness where there was none, that I turned my brain off entirely._

 _So if at any time I'd just decided to use my head, then that would've been it. And it wouldn't have happened._

 _If the time loop ever DID had a cause, then that cause was me._

 _…_

 _Dipper, what do I DO?_

* * *

There was another flash of blue light, and Sam was standing there again.

"And that's it." He spread his arms grandly, like a magician would after the completion of a spectacle. "I've been hopping around doing whatever I please, killing whoever I please. And that's why your uncle's gone too. Soon as I'm through with you, I'll head back in time, take him away, and do as I will…"

"Yeah…" She whispered. "I see."

"It all fits." He told her. "I did it. It's been a complicated equation, but I'm the answer. _I'm the end_. And that's what's happening."

Mabel bit her lip and squeezed back tears.

 _You need to be stronger, Mabel._ Dipper's words whispered in the back of her memory. _No matter what happens, to me or anybody else, we need you to be strong. Strong enough to hold together when something hits you. Tough enough to take a thousand hits and never break. Be hopeful. Be loving. Be cheerful, and caring, and good… Be that way forever. With or without me. That's what we need you to do…_

Mabel took a deep breath. In an instant, she knew exactly what she had to do. _I have a job._ She remembered. _Fate has a job for sweet, happy, trusting little Mabel, and I'm the only one that can do it._

 _Time to do it._

"Hey Sam." She said.

"What?"

"I'm…" She wiped her eyes and struggled to hold her voice steady. She really was afraid. "Uh… Why you haven't killed me? …Do you like me?"

"I— What?" He grew a couple inches taller and snarled. "I don't _like_ you."

"Eh… Well! I mean!" Mabel stuttered. "I mean you must have hated Dippingsauce a lot to kill him, but with me you're just standing there, so that means you don't hate me. I mean you don't have a reason to hurt me and you don't really want to. And that's why you don't. So yeah, so right, so there."

There was silence for a minute in the darkened room.

Sam hadn't thought about it like that before. But now that it came down to it, he realized it was true… He didn't hate her.

He remembered his mother. How she treated everything like an object, or a tool. In all things she acted shrewd, cruel, pragmatic and level. She hurt and killed anyone that ever crossed her, never hesitated to stoop to the sickest, most murderous depths to gain any advantage. Power was the name of her game, and strength was its only rules. That made sense to Sam. That fit with what he knew and had seen. That was the only way it ought to be.

When he realized that he himself _didn't_ hate somebody… It felt like weakness. _Why don't I hate her?_

 _Why AM I even talking to her, anyway?_

 _What am I trying to do?_

He'd come here for revenge; to destroy even the memory of everyone who'd been responsible for what happened to him: Stanford Pines, Fiddleford McGucket, Dipper Pines, Wendy Corduroy…

And he'd also wanted to find his people, so that he would no longer be alone. But now that he knew what it meant to be a part of his own family, now I know what his mother expects of an ally, Now… It seemed to him that he hated her as much as he hated the rest of his enemies.

But that was also none of Mabel's business.

Sam opened his mouth to growl something, but the girl was already talking again. "I dunno about you, but I want a happy ending!" She stated. "And I bet deep down you actually want to help me! Because really everybody wants everything to turn out alright. So do you think there's any chance you could have a change of heart and start being a good guy instead of a bad guy anytime soon?"

Sam blinked as if in shock, having a hard time believing that such a train of thought could even exist. "… _Really_ …?"

"Come on!" Mabel pleaded. "I know you can't be all bad! You let me sit on your lap and drive when you were pretending to be Robbie! And how about Tambry? She's been on her Facepage account, and her Bumblr account, and her Chirper account, and all her accounts all week really, talking about how great the concert was and how great Robbie was but _you_ were Robbie!"

"I had to learn to operate a vehicle." He explained. "You were the only one around with a rudimentary understanding. That wasn't you sitting on my lap, that was me tricking you into teaching me. And as for Tambry, I needed to blend in. Killing and eating her wouldn't have blended in." _Wait, what am I doing?_ Sam demanded of himself. _Am I trying to justify myself to HER? Trying to convince her that I AM a monster?_

 _If you want to convince her of THAT._ Another thought intruded on his mind. _Just kill her. Remember who and what and where you are. You've got places to be and things to do. Standing here chatting with a teenage girl is wasting precious seconds. You were right in the middle of your revenge!_

"Well yeah but you still did let me sit on your lap!" She once again interrupted him. "And you still were extra nice to Tambry even when you didn't have to; so how about it? Maybe you were even _happier_ when you were nice to people! I don't know, but maybe down deep inside you're actually a nice person! And the only little problem is that you're just really angry and mean and evil and think it's alright to do terrible things, but you're actually nice… You know, like Beauty and the Beast or Doofenshmirtz or Count Bleck!"

Sam stared at her.

Mabel swallowed quietly.

 _I have a job to do._

 _It all led up to this. It all wraps up in this. It all ends now._

She told her foot to take a step forward, but it hesitated. _Come on, move you stupid leg!_ She silently shouted. _I need you forward! The place where you aren't! Just move movemove come on move! Sure it looks like a monster up there, but it's really a person somewhere inside, a person who needs his justice too! Come on, this is it! Take a step!_ Her leg wasn't used to being yelled at, and finally obeyed.

Then she told her other foot to take a step too. It hesitated as well, but obeyed just like the other. She could hear her own heart beating, and knew she had to keep talking so that fear wouldn't drive her right back.

"S-s-so how about it, Sam?" She asked, and with a monumental effort forced a smile onto her face. "Maybe… Maybe we could work together to make everything right again! Maybe you don't have to be the bad guy, maybe you don't have to be alone, or sad, or angry… Maybe everything could be okay if you just stop thinking dark thoughts…"

She was close enough to touch him now. Close enough to smell his breath. Close enough that he could injure her by no more than flinching. Close enough to make out every detail of his creepy, slimy body. Close enough to even hug him.

"Come on, Sam…" She said. "Don't you want a happy ending?"

In spite of himself, Sam considered it.

He weighed all sides of the issue. He remembered all the evil that had been done between him and this family he was killing. Stanford and Fiddleford's experiments, and the years spent locked underground. Dipper and Wendy's attempts at his life… But in return… There was everything he'd done back to them… So Sam then wondered about forgiveness: could this family forgive him? And could he forgive this family? Was forgiveness possible after things such as this? Could there ever be peace?

…And were friends something he ever wanted? He remembered the time spent with Tambry. Indeed, the best week of his life had been the one where she loved him; where he had people around to laugh and joke and eat and sing with. Nowhere, in all the revenge and violence or deceit since, had he ever tasted anything as sweet as love…

…But would any of it be worth it, to forsake the destiny his mother had laid out for him? She would have him live a life of lies, violence, malice… And with that life would come strength, power, greatness… A chance, perhaps, to one day return to his people, even earn their respect. He could earn allies, powerful allies. He could have anything he wanted…

Anything he wanted…

But what if _peace_ was what he wanted?

Sam thought about these matters.

And then he made his decision.

He raised his hands in the air, and brought them down hard. Mabel's body broke and twisted and came to pieces as he smashed her to death. And each blow brought more resolution, more clarity, more confidence to his soul, as he knew then and there exactly the type of man he was. But it also broke his heart, for he knew that he was throwing away what could be his one and only chance at honest friendship.

In that moment, he hated himself more than he had ever hated another, so that he bit his lip hard enough to draw blood, and longed more than anything in the world to change his decision. But there was no going back on it now; he had sealed his soul and his fate, with a sin so cruel and monumental that could not be undone, even within his own mind. And with this burden on his heart, he turned and left the lab, to continue a life that led ever deeper into darkness.

At least.

That's exactly what _would_ have happened.

But instead, before he made his decision, while he still thought about these matters, he was distracted. And while he was distracted, Mabel's hand darted forward, and plucked the time machine out of his hand.

The action was so quick, so nimble, and so utterly unexpected, that he didn't even have time to react until she was already gone.

Gone, gone, gone.

Already gone.

* * *

\- Time:

\- 2013 A.D. (somewhen)

\- Place:

\- Ford's study, beneath the Mystery Shack

The ethereal blast of the time-jump left her disoriented as her feet touched down in Ford's study in some other distant time. She wasn't sure exactly when she was, she just knew that she was safe.

 _It worked._ Mabel gasped.

As soon as she was sure, her legs buckled beneath her, and she collapsed onto the cold wooden floor, crying and shaking and maybe even laughing just a tiny little bit. "I'm sorry…" She blubbered. "I'm sorry Sam… I'm sorry… I lied… You…" She choked. " _You_ don't get a happy ending you gross, fat, lying, murdering, poop-headed JERK! …You killed my brother… Nobody… Nobody gets to do that… Nobody… Nobody… _Nobody_ …"

* * *

\- Time:

\- 2013 A.D., June 12th, 2:50pm (about the same time, maybe a little before)

\- Place:

\- Crash Site Omega (some place on the way back from the Shifter's lair)

The close metal walls of the alien ship creeped with slime, rust, and decay. In every direction they stretched, great decrepit monoliths interwoven with deliberate purpose by beings long since dead. The trusses and members of the walls curved over and beneath and around the hallways, like the uneven, bloated ribs of some monstrous, shapeless corpse. The rays from the headlamp reflected strangely off the faded metal surfaces, casting shadows shaped like reflections, and reflections shaped like shadows.

It was a scary place on its own. Human minds have always guarded a natural fear of the strange and unknown, and this environment seemed _designed_ to foster such unease. Any pillar might seem to hide an enemy. Any dark area might conceal death. Everything but the very nearest walls were a mystery, forgotten since time out of mind.

Wendy should have been afraid.

But this place wasn't strange or unknown to her any more. She understood it, and the very real, very dangerous threats that inhabited it: the cold reckoning and electronic reflexes of patrolling security machines, and the wily, bloodthirsty intelligence of a timeless, formless beast. There was a reason, she knew, that this place had gone unnoticed for so very long: everybody who ventures inside was killed. Murderous natures _did_ lurk around every corner. Fear was never irrational.

Wendy should have been afraid.

And yes, she did want out of here.

Yes, she wanted nothing but to return to peaceful places, to be reunited with loved ones, and to lie quietly at home in the light, far from harm and the burden of destiny and violence.

Yes, she was in phenomenal pain.

Yes, she was probably bleeding out.

Yes, she was trying very hard to keep her eyes open, because she knew that if she bent over and fell asleep now, she would never awake.

But she wasn't afraid.

Not even a little.

Not anymore.

Her slow, limping trudge was interrupted by a quiet noise from somewhere up ahead. A pair of security drones hovered around a corner and fixed her with their unwavering red stare. Beneath their smooth surfaces, all manner of weapons charged and readied.

But their sensors swept her, and found none of the usual chemical markers of hostility. They saw her calm. Perhaps one of them sent a request to the security officer, asking for input on how to deal with this subject. But the officer never responded.

"Don't even try it." Wendy muttered up at their unhearing stares. "She's already dead. And I'm already gone."

She never stopped walking. And the drones did nothing but watch as she approached, watch her pass between them, and watch her backside as she continued on her way.

Soon now… So soon, and it would all be over. Once she finished her tasks and closed all the time loops, she would be free to undo all of history. Return things to the way they were supposed to be. Return to peaceful days free of sickness. Return to the nights when she could sleep easy. Return to a time when killer robots were the worst she had to deal with.

Return to the mission.

Return to him.

* * *

\- Time:

\- 2013 A.D., June 12th, 4:28pm (less than a minute after Sam's appearance)

\- Place:

\- Ford's study, beneath the Mystery Shack

Ford didn't honestly have time to put together what all was happening. All he knew was that somehow, the shapeshifter was right here in the Shack, his niece was helpless and asleep behind him, _and this thing is a much faster than I_ …

Strong hands grabbed him by the collar and hurled him headfirst toward the wall. He winced instinctively to prepare for the impact, as he reached for a weapon hidden in his coat.

Then there was a flash of blue light, and he didn't hit the wall; he hit Mabel.

They both went into a pile on the floor.

"OOF! HEY! WHAT?!"

Mabel stood back up unharmed and ecstatic. "It worked! It worked!" She blared like a siren. "I saved you! It worked!"

"Umm! Uh! Agh! What's happening?" He staggered to his feet and drew the gun. He saw the shapeshifter standing in the middle of the room, frozen mid-throw… And he saw that Mabel was still where he'd left her, asleep in the chair. Suddenly, he wasn't sure who he should be aiming at: the frozen shapeshifter, or the mysterious second Mabel?

Before he could do either, the mysterious second Mabel had her arms wrapped tightly around his hips, squeezing him in a tight hug and jumping up and down at the same time.

"I can't believe I did it! It worked! It worked! I time-traveled like an expert pro and I froze time and I saved you! At first I was confused because time machines should just have only _two_ buttons, for forward and backward, but instead it had a bunch of other buttons and one of them said 'FRZ' which I first thought stood for 'Fat Rolling Zebras' but then I realized it stood for 'FReeZe' as in 'freeze,' so I tried it out and time froze so here we are, and I'm sorry when I'm excited I tend to deliver exposition in really long unbroken sentences!" She finally took a breath. "But anyway it's like _destiny or something! IT WORKED!_ "

Ford poked his fingers up under his glasses to rub his eyes, then tried to compose himself as he waited for the spots to clear. He took a deep breath. He was still sick with a high fever, and still running on about 2 hours of sleep; not the best conditions to go on any type of adventure, let alone making sense of whatever the heck this was. "Okay." He said anyway. "I think I got it, but just in case… Would you remind repeating all that again? Significantly slower this time please."

* * *

Sam stared at the place where Mabel had disappeared, having taken his fate, his hope, and his one possession with her.

He had been tricked.

But he was not unintelligent. He was not unfamiliar with the way time travel worked. He knew in an instant what this meant.

It meant that she was going to save her uncle. _That_ had been the real reason he disappeared. It was _her_ who'd taken him, not to kill him as Sam would have, but to save him. Now that Sam's greatest, oldest enemy had access to the tape, Sam realized that he could be easily killed at any time. _Just as I killed the boy. At any point they could freeze the flow of time, and appear among that breach in the flow with a deadly weapon at the ready. I won't see anything. I won't feel anything. At any moment now, any moment at all, I'll see a flash of bluish light, and when it fades, I will stand with a mortal wound._

 _Any moment now…_

 _Any moment now, and the good guys will win._

 _Any moment._

Sam stared at the place on the floor.

He imagined Mabel standing there again, and tried to think what he might try to say to her if he could. What could he say? Could he apologize? Could he beg? Could he undo time and give her back her beloved brother? No… Yes… No… Perhaps… If only she were here again… _Oh, who am I kidding? If she were here again, the only smart option would be to kill her again…_

Then he imagined Stanford there, and tried to rehearse what he might say to him. Could he reason with him? Could he accuse him? Or just beg for mercy all over again; beg to be consigned to another terrible life in a cold prison beneath the ground? It would be so much better than death… ANYHING was better than death. Anything but that cold, dark, mysterious hell… _No… No, if Ford were here, I would just attack him again. Because I will not suffer prison again. Never, not again, not one minute more. Death, any death, would be better than that._

He imagined Tambry there. What the devil could he say to her? Perhaps, before he died, he would have liked to tell her that he really did love her. He wasn't sure if it was true, but he wished so badly that it was. Most of all, he would've just liked to thank her for loving him, and for leading him through the one beautiful week he'd ever had in his life; the one he'd spent in the light. That, he knew, was true. _Oh, Tambry… If you were here… I could tell you that I did indeed love you… But if you were here, you would finally see me for who I really am, and then you would hate me, just like all the others. You would hate me for being a monster. And I would kill you and possibly eat you, because… Because…_

 _Why? Why are you so bloodthirsty, Sam? Why is every inclination of your soul only evil all the time? How did you come to be the monster that you are? What foul soul did you inherit from that psycho mother of yours? What black deeds must she and her kind have done, far away and long ago, so black and pitiless and cruel that they echo right down to you…?_

Then he imagined his mother there.

And he couldn't imagine a single thing he could possibly say to her. He couldn't even bring himself to meet her eyes. He bowed his head.

" _You're weak._ " In the back of his mind, he heard his mother's words whispering down at him. " _If you were strong, you could have killed him when you were a child. If you were strong, you could have escaped. If you were strong, you could have killed them all. If you were strong, you could have been worthy to stand, worthy to be called my son. If you were strong… If you were strong… If you were strong…_

 _If I was strong…_

Sam couldn't cry. His eyes didn't naturally have any tear ducts, for his body was slimy enough already. And he couldn't' scream. He'd never screamed before, only roared or snarled. But those were sounds for anger, for fight-or-flight, for pain of the body. He didn't know what sound to make for this pain of the soul, or for this incredible, overpowering mortal fear. He knelt down on the floor and he wondered if he could pray at least.

 _Dear God._

 _Dear God…_

 _…_

 _God, I hate you too._

There was nothing else to say, nothing at all.

But a song did come to mind.

It was an old, classic song, one that McGucket used to play 30-something years ago, down in the lab on an old record player. It was long ago in Sam's youth, and he hadn't quite understood the meaning of the words back then. But he recalled them now, and now he understood. Indeed, it seemed as if it had been written for him, so he quietly recited it.

 _"Well, my name, it is Sam Hall, Sam Hall._

 _Yes, my name, it is Sam Hall, it is Sam Hall._

 _My name it is Sam Hall, and I hate you one and all._

 _And I hate you, one and all,_

 _Curse your eyes._

 _…_

 _I killed a man, they said, so they said._

 _I killed a man, they said, so they said._

 _I killed a man, they said, and I smashed in his head._

 _And I left him lying dead,_

 _Curse his eyes._

 _…_

 _But a-swinging, I must go, I must go._

 _A-swinging, I must go, I must go._

 _A-swinging, I must go while you critters down below,_

 _Yell up, "SAM I TOLD YOU SO!"_

 _Well curse your eyes._

 _…_

 _I saw Mabel in the crowd, in the crowd._

 _I saw Mabel in the crowd, in the crowd._

 _I saw Mabel in the crowd and I hollered, right out loud,_

 _"Hey there Mabel, ain't you proud?_

 _Curse your eyes."_

 _…_

 _Then the sheriff, he came to, he came to._

 _Ah, yeah, the sheriff, he came to, he came to._

 _The sheriff, he come to and he said "Sam, how're you?"_

 _And I said, "Well, sheriff, how're you?_

 _Curse your eyes…"_

 _…_

 _My name is Samuel, Samuel._

 _My name is Samuel, Samuel._

 _My name is Samuel, and I'll see you all in hell._

 _And I'll see you all in hell._

 _Curse your eyes…"_

He shifted one of his hands into a long, bony stinger. And he placed it under his chin. He lowered the bone density in his skull so that it would be easy and painless.

 _"…And I'll see you all in hell…_

 _…Curse your eyes…"_

* * *

\- Time:

\- 2013 A.D., June 12th, 3:05pm (one hour previously)

\- Place:

\- Crash Site Omega (last known location of Wendy, Stan, McGucket, and Robbie)

A short time jump, a two-mile walk, and a seemingly endless ladder later, Ford and Mabel found themselves slowly and stealthily progressing through the engine room of the alien spacecraft. Mabel's story mulled around in Ford's head, while worry and anger built up in his chest.

"Wow, this place is creepy. How come you never brought me down here? Are there lots of aliens? It's dirty down here. They must have run out of soap. And did they invent sparkles on their world? We need to take them to our glitter. Wow, di-"

"And you're _sure_ the Valentino boy was replaced?" Ford interrupted.

"Uh-huh." She nodded. "You're sure that he went down here with everyone?"

"Yes…" Ford hissed. His worry increased with the darkness and the silence and their depth beneath the ground, and his anger increased with Mabel's constant talking and chattering and cheeriness. _Why couldn't she just calm down and be quiet? Didn't she realized the danger wasn't yet passed?_

Eventually, the walls began to shake, and a great noise filled the air. Ford pulled Mabel for cover, and they sat there together in the dark, waiting for the noise to pass. Ford realized that it must be McGucket; he must have gotten the ship's reactor working again… At least he _hoped_ it was him… He hoped his friend was still alive, still in control… One worry on top of another.

"So what are we doing down here, again?" Mabel asked.

Ford's patience was growing dangerously thin.

" _We_." He growled. "Need to find the others, and warn them about the shapeshifter. There's no telling where and when it has been, or what it did, before you trapped it. It could have been here right at this very moment…!"

"That last sentence was pretty confusing, but okay, I'll be quiet!" Mabel whispered a little too loudly. "Wait, hold on, when are we right now? Are we in the present?"

"Every time is the present when you're in it." Ford rolled his eyes. "It's a subjective term."

"Brain hurting…"

"To answer your question, we're about an hour before you stole the time machine from it. With any luck, that will prevent it from seeing us coming."

"Hmm… Okay, yeah, but actually, I think he's a 'he' not an 'it'. I mean since he has a soul and everything."

"What?"

"Right? I mean, living underground for so long probably made him really sad and angry. And now that he's out, he got a name, and a mom, and he really started to… You know, really become his own person and everything… Like, his revenge is wrong and everything, but it still makes sense…"

"The… The… The ability to think…" Ford stuttered. "D-d-doesn't make you a person. Neither does the ability to lie. But that doesn't matter right now. All that matters is that we _find_ everyone else, get them to _safety_ , and get _out_ again without being seen by something worse…"

"Stealth mode… Activated." Mabel pulled her sweater up over her nose, and combed her hair into a ninja mask.

Ford paused to stare at her. "…Well, I'm glad _you're_ feeling better at least!" He suddenly burst. "You know, for a girl who just lost her brother to a _murderous monster_ that _she unleashed herself_ , you're acting _awfully_ chipper, you know that?"

 _That hurt._

But Mabel was used to hurt after all this. She'd already reached rock bottom today. Rock bottom was a terrible place to be… But Dipper had met her there. He'd still loved her there, and he'd helped her rise back up.

"He forgave me." Mabel said.

Ford lost his temper as he stood up and continued down the passage. "Then he's a BETTER MAN than I!"

 _That hurt even more._

Mabel was silent from that point on.

And Ford pushed onward, trying to ignore his own guilt, as he wondered if perhaps _he_ was the one the shifter truly hated. Perhaps all of this was just an elaborate, contrived ploy to get back at _him_ … _Perhaps it's all my fault. Perhaps that really was an intelligent creature I locked in my lab for all those years. Perhaps if I'd treated him as an equal, or a friend, or a child, then… No._ _NO! It's an 'it'! It's evil! It killed! And it will kill again!_ Ford pushed his guilt, and his doubt, and all other cluttering, pointless thoughts toward the back of his mind. And he promised to think about it later; sometime when everything was safe. Sometime when he could afford to waste even a single moment on such thoughts. Sometime when _real_ people, when _humans_ , when _family,_ weren't in danger of death.

Finally, a dim yellowish light appeared not far ahead, reflecting green off the bluish walls. They rounded one last corner to find the light shining out through a crack in a heavy metal door; Ford recognized it as the entrance to the control room. Somebody must still be inside. _Please be Fiddleford and Stan. Please be alive…_

But then Ford noticed something very odd: this hallway had been rather empty the last time he'd been down here. But now it was messy; cluttered with debris and broken machinery and thousands of shards of shattered glass. He motioned Mabel to a standstill, and pulled out a magnet gun as he bent to inspect the wreckage. He recognized a lot of these parts; fusion pulse weapons, tentacled robot arms, and scraps of spherical glass shells, perhaps 2 meters wide.

"What's all this clutter? Was this an alien attic or something?" Mabel whispered from his elbow.

"No, these are security drones… Or they _were_ …" Ford poked at it with the barrel of the magnet gun.

"Are they all dead?"

"Well it definitely appears as if… Wait." Ford's eyes swept the carnage. Toward the opposite end, a single motor twitched. One of the red triangular eyes lit up briefly to look at him.

Ford flipped the gun to its pulse setting, and shot it. The red eye flashed, and sparks arced across its body, frying and scrambling its circuits. The remains of its artificial intelligence realized it ought to send some manner of report back to the central mainframe, but it was so frazzled that its last words ended up being nothing but an incoherent string of nonsense: "INTRUDERS DETECTED INCONCLUSIVE REFERENCE CODE RETURN THREAT LEVEL UPGRADED TO JELLY ROLL ONE: ERROR 443\\]kl;/oij#JE'~~3Dde~~~…" It broadcasted with the last of its consciousness.

" _Now_ they're all dead." Ford answered confidently.

"Okay. So-"

"OKAY WHAT WAS THAT?!" A new voice spoke up, coming from the control room entrance. "That better not be you stupid fairy brats again! Because I swear, this is getting on my last nerve! C'mon out and show yourself!"

Ford spun on his heels. The narrow sliver of light creaked open to its full width, and the silhouette of his twin brother was suddenly standing in the gap.

"Ford?"

"Stanley?"

* * *

\- Time:

\- 2013 A.D., June 12th, 3:05pm (concurrent)

\- Place:

\- Crash Site Omega (Wendy)

It seemed like hours of walking, with the pain burning through every wound in her body, blood pooling from the spike in her stomach, and her legs stiff beneath her. It was probably only 20 minutes or something, but still.

Finally, she reached the control room at the ship's center, and pulled the tape to jump back to right before she'd heard the ship's engines going off; back when she'd first realized drones were being sent to kill McGucket and Stan.

She hit the 'freeze' button on the tape as she appeared, and took a moment to look around. Sure enough, there were no fewer than 8 drones approaching the control room, and sure enough, the old men had no idea what was coming. Stan was even _asleep._

 _Ugh._

 _Well, they're too high of the ground to use an axe… And I left the ray gun somewhere… Ugh… Oh hey, wait, McGucket brought that new death ray of his, didn't he? Yeah, he has it down here…_

She stumbled into the control room, unfroze the massive weapon, and brought it back outside.

 _Okaaaay, soo… How do you turn this thing on?_

She messed with it for a couple seconds, flipping this switch and that, pulling the trigger, and scratching the record (why is there a record player?) Eventually she found a switch that made it make a whole lot of funny noises, and another one that turned on the 'ignition' light. The weapon roared to life in her hands, and a swirling, glowing pink ball of pure sci-fi-ness formed a few inches from the tip. She aimed it upwards at the first drone and pulled the trigger.

 _Wham._

The time-frozen room glowed with brilliant pink light for a moment, as the superheated beam tore through the robot's shell. The grass cracked, the metal components melted, and its batteries violently burst.

But time was still frozen, so its debris just hung motionless in the air, mid-explosion, as Wendy aimed the weapon at the next drone.

 _Wham._

And the next.

 _Wham._

 _Wham._

 _Wham._

 _Wham._

 _Wham._

 _Wham._

Finally they were all dead, and Stan and McGucket were safe.

 _Huh. Wow._ She looked down at the death ray. _I actually REALLY like this thing._ She unfroze time just long enough to watch the robots' wreckage clatter to the ground, and catch the stench of warm smoke. Then she dropped the death ray where she stood, and stepped back into the shadow of a nearby pipe to think through strategy: _Okay, so they're safe, that's a real load off. But now how do I find Sam? How do I get myself medical attention when I can't trust anyone? How do I keep him from killing Mabel and Ford and everybody else? Where do I go from here?_

 _Oh man, I'm still bleeding…_

Every time she thought about her injury, it seemed to be getting worse. And always she seemed to be getting tired faster. Things were getting… Weird… And every time she sat down, it was harder and harder to force herself to stand back up.

After 10 minutes of balancing torture and sleep, she was forcefully drug out of her brooding by the sudden loud discharge of a magnet gun.

"OKAY WHAT WAS THAT?!" Stan's distant voice mirrored her thoughts. "That better not be you stupid fairy brats again! Because I swear, this is getting on my last nerve! C'mon out and show yourself!"

Wendy forced herself to an upright sitting position, and peaked around the pipe to see what was happening.

Much to her surprise and suspicion, she saw two guests that she'd presumed dead.

"Ford?"

"Stanley, is that you?"

"Bro, why are YOU down here? I told you to get some rest!"

"The real question is why _y'all're_ down here!" Mabel piped up. "It's colder and creepier than the county jail down here! Heck, creepier than a unicorn dungeon! Dare I say, even creepier than a gnome drunk-tank!"

"Mabel!" Stan noticed his great niece standing there with him. "Sweetie! Are you okay? What're you…? What're you both doing down…?"

"Stanley give me your hand." Ford commanded, rushing up to him. "Here. Now. Give it. Quickly and quietly now; we haven't got all day. Mabel, stand guard, would you?"

"What woah hey what's the matter with-" Stanley began to protest as Ford grabbed his wrist, drew a small knife, and pricked a hole in Stan's palm. Stan drew his hand back as fast as he could react, and clutched his wounded fist to his chest. "OW HEY GEEZ FORD WHAT WAS THAT FOR?! YA COULDA _KILLED ME_!"

"I… I was just…" Ford looked at the drops of red fluid trickling out of his brother's fist. "Red blood. Good. My apologies, it was a necessary evil. Stanley, we've got a-"

"Look poindexter, I don't gotta put up with this! I'm OLD!"

"We've got a problem." Ford continued. "Where's Robert?"

"I said I'm too old for this!" Stan gave one last try at driving the idea appropriately far into his brother's brain. "TOO. OLD… And wait, who in Stalin's pits is 'Robert'…?"

"The Valentino boy! Shaggy, gangly little creature. Wears a hoodie? Eyeliner? Human, I believe."

"…Oh you mean Robbie? Yeah, he was here earlier. McGucket said he ran off with Wendy about an hour ago. Thought they'd be back by now."

"Oh, blast it all…" Ford nervously glanced about.

Wendy sighed, and drew her axe. If Ford and Mabel were real, then that was 4 of her friends accounted for, and she could get their help. But if one of them was the Shifter… She didn't know how she'd face him in her current state, but it would be better to get it out of the way now than later. " _ALL RIGHT YOU TWO…_ " She announced, as loudly and strongly as she could muster. "HERE'S HOW IT IS."

Everyone turned about, looking for the source of her voice. Ford drew a ray gun and pointed it toward her hiding place in a fit of panic.

"Stan 2…" She struggled upright, using her axe like a walking stick. "You… You know about the shapeshifter… Which means you either beat him, or you _are_ him. So… So prove the first one or I _swear_ I'll, like… Do something bad…"

"Uh… I can vouch for him!" Mabel spoke up. "He ain't been out of my sight!"

"And I can vouch for Mabel…" Ford said. "But now YOU… Uh… You'd better be the real Wendy…!"

Wendy figured that was proof enough. Or maybe it wasn't… Oh, heck if she knew. And even if it wasn't, she couldn't fight like this…

She stepped out into the light.

She was bleeding the color red from enough places that they no longer found her suspect.

"Geez, girl, you alright?!" Stan took in her injuries. "C'mon, sit down! What got ya?"

"Uh…" Wendy finally seemed to partially relax, and let Stan lead her over to a big, round alien chair in the control room. "You… You guys are all okay… You're all alive. I thought…"

"Wendy, I'm dreadfully sorry, but we have bigger problems!" Ford told her. "We have reason to believe that the Shapeshifter had a parent, likely possessing time-travel capabilities of far-reaching extent. Have you s-"

"Neutralized." Wendy collapsed into the chair, while Stan fumbled with a first aid kit. "I… T-t-took care of it."

Ford blinked. "You… Did? It's captured?"

" _Dead._ " Wend winced as Stan lifted her jacket to inspect the wound. "She's dead."

Mabel put her hand over her mouth. "You _killed_ her?"

Ford frowned. "Are you sure?"

"Yeh." She grunted quietly.

"Uh…" Ford noticed the greenish filth covering her shirt and forearms for the first time, and was shocked to realize it was all _blood_. "Uh… Y-y-yes…" He stuttered. "I should think so…"

"Where's…" Wendy grunted. "W-w-where's the other one? The first one? Has anyone seen him?" She fixed her eyes on Ford and Mabel. "YOU'VE seen him. Where is he? _I'm going to kill him too…_ "

"The _heck_ you are!" Stan growled, as he kept pressure on her wound with one hand, and rustled through the first-aid kit with the other. "I ain't no doctor, but you're in a real bad way, so you're staying _right here_ until we get ya patched up. You shouldn't even be _walking_!"

"Yeah… Yeah I _am_ …!" Wendy pulled a time tape out of her pocket, and coughed. "I know I am, because _this_ one just came flying out of the air at me at the start of the battle, and there's no way for me to _get_ it except _prying it from his cold dead hands_ and that means I-"

"Wait…" Ford snatched the machine from her grip, and inspected it closesly. It was perfectly identical to the one they'd taken from Sam, right down to the same exact dents and scrapes. He pulled its duplicate out of his pocket. "No, we already did… It's the same one…"

Wendy stared. "…You mean… You got him…?"

Ford nodded. "Neutralized…"

Wendy blinked tiredly. "Oh."

"And so if I'm understanding this right, _this one_ a past version of _this one_ …" Ford held up the two tapes. "You have to help me understand this, I-"

" _Ford_." Stan growled, as he glared at his brother. " _I've got my fingers in this girl's INNARDS trying to pull out a HARPOON, and you're trying to TECHNOBABBLE with her. Stop talking_."

"…Well. Wait…" Ford scratched his head. "Okay. I know how I can help. I know what I can do… I just need to know where this 'fight' is…"

All of a sudden, there was a flash of blue light, and another Ford appeared standing in the room, looking as if weary from a journey. "Well, that's that…" The second Ford sighed. He glanced at present Ford. "Take the Norther cargo doors out of the engine room, then follow the 3rd hallway on the left as far as it goes. You'll reach a loose hatch in the left wall near where it's collapsed, and you can find your way from there." She pointed to the tape he'd taken from Wendy. "Use _that one_ to return to now."

"Got it." The first Ford nodded.

"Also, don't interfere with anything!" The second Ford added. "DON'T interfere. It already happened the way it did. She got hurt, but she won, so you don't DARE even RISK messing ANYTHING up…"

"Understood." Present Ford disappeared, and everybody was left staring at the second Ford: the one who'd just come back from completing the final mission.

"That… That's that…" Ford sighed.

"That's it…?" Wendy whispered, scarcely daring to believe it. "That's it…" She realized it was true, and had a feeling as if a great load had suddenly been lifted from her shoulders.

"What's it?" Mabel scratched her head.

"I'm kinda perplexified by what gist happened…" McGucket admitted.

"I've learned to accept my confusion for what it is." Stan had totally ignored everything in the past two minutes. But now he sat back, wiped his hands on his shirt, and looked at his brother. "Okay, I think I got the bleeding stopped; least until we can get back to the Shack. So. Now we can talk."

"Okay… I'll see if I can put this into simple words…" Ford adjusted his glasses and prepared. "So… Wendy… Ah… Wendy just got through with a… Fight. A very… Intense fight; I watched the whole thing. And… I now no longer doubt Stanley's claim that her father can wrestle a bear. Also… Wendy, I have to say that you're much smarter and tougher than I ever gave you credit for. And I don't doubt that your grit, ingenuity, and unsettlingly high tolerance for pain just saved all our lives."

"Gee thanks." She mumbled. "But you coulda helped out too while you were there…"

"Couldn't risk it." Ford stated briefly. "Now, _moving on_. A number of… 'Stable time loops' were employed during all today's events. Things happened the way they did because time travel forced them to happen the way they already did. Information and persons traveling backward through a stable time-like curve result in recursive causality."

"Ford." Stan frowned. "Yer technobabbling again. We've talked about this."

"Sorry, sorry… Anyway… To summarize, things were weird." Ford summarized. "But now… To the very best of my knowledge, all those time loops are 'closed'. That is, we've completed all the actions needed to make things happen the way they have. And, by some miracle of either talent, intelligence, luck, or all three, the way they happened is that we _won_. It's all done. We are now officially free to live out the rest of our lives without fear of the Shapeshifters."

"You mean Sam and his mom." Mabel corrected him.

"I…" Ford considered that. "Yes… Yes… Sam and it's… And his mom. We are free to live without fear of Sam and his mother."

"But we won't." Wendy muttered.

"Hmm?" Ford clarified. "What did you say?"

"We won't." Wendy repeated. "Dipper's dead. And we ain't gonna leave him that way."

"Oh, and also Robbie!" Mabel added. "Robbie's probably dead too."

"And Robbie." Wendy agreed. "Right… Keep forgetting about him. But anyway, we're going to save them. And… Okay. I've been thinking about it, and I think I've got a good plan. _I think that if I went back alone,_ there's one single moment that I could change. And if I change it, if I knew then what I know now, then none of this would have happened. I know exactly where I need to go…"

"Well…" Ford winced as he looked down at the tape. "I'm… I'm not sure we _can_ undo Dipper's death with these. They seem to form stable time loops only and-"

"There's a switch on the side." Wendy sighed. "When it's engaged, you don't time-travel like normal, it just beams back your brain. It replaces a version of yourself at a previous date. Good for fixing mistakes, I guess."

"Oh." Ford flipped the switch, and then stared at the tape again for a minute or so. "But…" His voice was small. "But if we undo everything…"

"Yep. Sam's mom will be back alive." Wendy admitted, wishing she could forget that detail. "And Sam will be back in the bunker. It'll be like nothing happened, because nothing did."

"You… You saw her though!" Ford wished he wasn't making the argument that he was. "You saw how dangerous she is! How psychopathic she is! How many people she's killed! You LIVED through the experience of how MUCH it takes to DESTROY her! We CAN'T risk undoing that! Suppose she catches even the faintest HINT of what happened?! She could be anywhere, anyone, anywhen…! She-"

"That's less important!" Wendy retorted.

"It's not that simple!" Ford pleaded. "Do you have any idea how lucky we were today?!"

"I have an idea that I didn't fight across time and space just to _hide_ for the rest of my sorry, miserable life!" Stan tried his best to stop her, but Wendy pushed him aside and struggled to her feet, pressing her arm to her stomach to keep the bandages in place. She stepped right up into Ford's face, and glared. "I did it because my best friend _died,_ and I want him _back_ …" She told him. " _Now if it's all the same to you, I'm tired, I'm in pain, and I just want to start fresh. So GIVE me back that tape, or YOU are an obstacle._ "

"…Ms. Corduroy." He said. "Be reasonable-"

"Mabel, go for it." Wendy sighed.

Mabel leapt off a high shelf, and landed on Ford's back. Her arms and legs all entwined themselves about his face and right arm, and her hair got in his eyes. He stumbled a little bit and almost fell over, so Wendy kicked him in the chest to finish the job, and the time machine flew out of his hand and into the air.

By the time Ford regained his composure, he was lying on the floor, bruised and coughing. Wendy and Mabel were standing over him.

And Stan had caught the tape.

"Stanley…" Ford coughed. "Stanley, you… We… You _must_ realize this is foolishness…! You know we can't do this again…!"

Stan stared at the tape.

He thought about it all for a good long minute.

"Y'know Poindexter…" He hummed. "When we were out sailing the world this last year… When we heard the siren's song, did we _turn around_?"

"We… What?" Ford frowned.

"No. We didn't." Stan said. "What did we do? We pulled out our hearing aids, we sailed right in, we kicked their tails, and we found a whole _chest_ of pearls, now didn't we?"

"Well… Well, yes, I suppose we did, but what does that have to do with-"

"And how about when we ran into that bounty hunter? Did we _hide_ from her? What woulda happened if we hid from her?"

"Then… Then we would have had to leave the rocket launcher behind…?" Ford frowned. "…And… I don't know, probably would have been defenseless against the cyclocks…"

"And how about that one warlord? If we woulda put up our hands and backed out of that business, we'd be _permanently_ banned from Peru, not to mention never meeting all those babes in that harem of his…"

"We're in mixed company, Stanley." Ford glanced toward the children.

"And how 'bout Bill?!" Stanley demanded. "When Bill had you during Weirdmageddon, WE were all SAFE! We coulda RAN! Left the town scot-free! Instead these morons drag me along to give up everything for your stupid hide, and wouldn't ya know it, we just so happened to save this whole lousy dimension along the way!"

Ford nodded.

"And my brain…" Stanley said. "Soon as my mind was wiped, you all started right in helping me back up; mixing up old memories, tickling the old thinker, making me a Grunkle again… Even though ya _must've_ worried that you might've been stirring Bill up too… Ya coulda left it be, but nooooo, instead you loved me too much, and now we all gotta worry that maybe he's still rattling around in there, kicking stones and twisting wires…"

"If he ever comes back we can deal with it…" Ford growled.

"That's what I'm saying!" Stan agreed. "That's seriously, like, the moral of our entire adult lives; that we DON'T RUN…! Remember, we're PINES! And Pines don't leave family behind. We stand by each other through thick and thin… We're there for each other! No matter what! Seriously, get your head in the game, poindexter…"

Ford's eyes fell.

The room was silent for a moment.

"All right." Ford whispered.

Stan handed the tape to Wendy. "Go get 'em, sweety."

"But…" Ford implored. "But we don't know what'll happen… Nobody can know…"

"HA HA! Well that's the _funny_ thing, isn't it?" Stan chuckled. "Cause we kinda DO! _Wendy_ here says she actually once _met a future version of herself_!"

"Dude." Wendy frowned at him.

"Yeah!" Stan continued, with a beaming smile. "She was all grown up and everything! And this freaky chick says that her and Dipper are actually _married_ by then! Can ya believe that?!"

"What." Ford's expression went blank.

"EH?" McGucket almost dropped his glasses.

"SQQUEEEEE!" Mabel instantaneously lost all motor control.

"…You did not just say that." Wendy glared at her Grunkle. "You gave me your _word_. You _scumbag._ "

"Wha-haaaaat? I'm rootin' for ya babe!" Stan put up his hands and took a step back, smiling broadly. "And besides, this timeline is all gonna get undone anyway, so it's not like I _really_ spoiled anything!"

"This close." Wendy growled, holding up her fingers to a very narrow width. "This close to having a brick shoved up your nose."

"Okay, okay, you're right, you're right. I'm sorry… Yeah, uh… Okay, that wasn't cool." Stan glanced down at Mabel, rolling around on the floor and frothing at the mouth just a little. "Yeah, uh… Hmm… I guess you better get outta here then…"

"Darn right I better…"

"Hey." He put a hand on Wendy's shoulder. "You done good kid. I, uh… I dunno what to say besides that this reality bites, so you go back and make a better one. You knock 'em dead, you grow up to be that hero, and watch out for my nephew, hey? Make sure he does the same."

"Yeah."

"And also. You proved me right, kid." He said sincerely. "This was your day to shine. Even if nobody saw it, you did it, and you proved for good an all that you _are_ that hero. Hope he knows that."

Wendy nodded.

"…Wait." Ford said.

They looked down at him.

He stood slowly to his feet, a look of sorrow on his face. "I'm… I'm the villain in this story… I am, aren't I."

"The heck are you on about?" Stan frowned at him. "Y'know we've got time-traveling booger monsters runnin' around, not ta mention killer robots up the wazoo…"

"No, I…" Ford rubbed his face through his hands. "I mean… Is it my fault, for treating… For treating 'Sam' like I did? Are they just monsters? Or are they people?"

"I treated 'im bad as you…" Mumbled McGucket. "Like livestock…"

"Hey, what's done is done." Stan spread his arms. "Ya didn't know all _this_ back then, right?"

"But am I still the bad guy?" Ford asked. " _Are_ they people? Do they think, feel, live, _choose_ …"

"I dunno…" Wendy shrugged. "I guess so."

"Then…" Ford nodded. "That means he has a soul. And that means I misused mine. That means that wrong was done… Uh… Would you mind… When you go back, would you mind telling past-me what happened? You don't have to tell him _everything_ , just… Just, he would have liked to know what could have been avoided… He'd like to know about the shapeshifter… And about who he is… It occurs to me that I'm sorry for what I did to him. It occurs to me I imprisoned him, and treated him unfairly for many years. If he ever could have been anything more than a monster… I'd have liked to know."

Wendy nodded again. "Alright."

" _Biscuit Brown_." Ford added. " _Carrot Costume_."

"Wait, what?"

"Tell past-me that." Ford nodded. "' _Biscuit Brown_ ', and ' _Carrot Costume_ '… They're codes. So that he'll know that it's serious."

"Okay…" Wendy repeated the codes to herself with a shrug. They were bizarre, and nonsensical, but that's part of what made them easy to remember. She fished out the pull-tab of the tape measure. "Guess this is goodbye, then, ish."

"WAITWAITWAIT *cough* I GOTTA *cough* I JUST REMEMBERED THAT I'VE GOTTA COME TOO!"

"No." Wendy told Mabel.

"BUT! UH! …But what about Robbie? I gotta stop him from going underground where he could get snagged by the shapeshifter! That means I definitely have to come back with you and uh incidentally know your secret also but that's just a side detail I mean really who cares…"

"Well…" Wendy knew that, objectively, Robbie's safety was _much_ more valuable than Mabel not knowing. If it meant him living, Mabel _had_ to come. She glared at Stan. " _Now_ look what you've did."

"Sorry." He winced.

"Okay…" Wendy realized that she was too tired and worn and injured to even care. She glanced back at Mabel. "Fine… But if you tell _anyone else_ …"

"Even Dipper?"

" _Especially_ Dipper… Ugh… If you tell then I'll…! I'll… I dunno, I'll do something bad… Okay?"

"Okay! I get it. You don't have to worry. And besides, my vast network of spies would have eventually found out anyway, so it's probably better this way."

"…Yeah, I suppose that makes sense."

Wendy held up the time machine, double-checked that the switch was in 'unstable' mode, and gripped her hand around the 'backward' button.

Mabel put her hand on the device too, so that the field would encompass both of them.

Wendy checked the time on her phone, then pulled the tape out to 4 days, 2 hours, and 15 minutes, then double-checked her math.

She knew where she was going.

This was going to work.

"Bye friends!" Mabel said. "We go to the past in the name of the future!"

"Adios." Stan gave thumbs-up.

"Smell ya later!" Fiddleford danced a little jig.

Ford sighed, and closed his eyes. "Farewell."

"And that's all she wrote…" Wendy released the tape.

* * *

 _Voom._


	28. It Is Undone

_Author's Note:_

Hey, thanks everyone for the great reviews the last few chapters, and thanks for sticking with this story to the end! It really means a lot.

Also, I know that I say 'it means a lot' a lot, but... Uh... It's always true. Every review, every message, every follow or favorite, even if it's anonymous, even if I don't know who you are, even if it's from my cousin or my goofy little sister... It all just means a ton. Makes me feel proud of the thing I made, makes me want to tell more stories, draw more pictures, imagine more robots and aliens and fantastical adventures... You guys are the reason this thing is 31 chapters long, and why I persevered through so many confusing plots and twisted time loops and sad, tragic things which I wasn't inspired to write. I would have chickened out LONG ago if I didn't know you guys weren't reading it and enjoying it and pushing me forward. So when I say 'it means a lot'... It's true.

* * *

The escape.

The flight.

The ship.

Moments before the crash.

Dipper gripped his fingers as tight as he could into the armrests, as he fought to hold his position against the chaotic surging of the saucer's gravity drive fields. In the seat beside him, Wendy struggled with the controls, trying to keep the vehicle a good distance from the ground, whilst going in a generally forwardly direction. Judging by the furrows in her brow and the sweat on her knuckles, it must be almost as hard as it looked.

Through it all, he tried to get his bearings. They needed to land safely, and as quickly as possible, because there wasn't any telling how long this ship would hold together. Through the ship's glass dome, off in the far distance, he spied the peak of the Multi-bear's lair. Which means the town must be somewhere West of here… Which way was West? Wendy slipped up for a moment and the ship tipped up on its side, which coincidentally let Dipper find the sun as a reference. It was mid-afternoon in Summer, so West should be… That way! "Uh… Go tha… Turn Starboard! T-t-two-o'-clock!" He squealed, and raised a hand to point.

"Yeah, yeah, I got you, fam!" Wendy spun the ship.

"No no! Too far!"

"It's touchy, it's touchy… Oooookay! Yeah, here we go. There!"

"Waitwaitwait now pull up! PULL UP!"

They missed a ridge by a narrow margin, weaved between another two hills, and then Wendy finally got it high enough that they were high enough to see across the valley.

There were the hanging cliffs! The town should be a mile or so in front of them.

With their destination in sight, Dipper was starting to really get a feeling they were going to _make it._ Sure, they'd had a long day, what with the spiders trying to eat them and the lions trying to rip them in half, and the alien robot ghosts and the new mission to destroy the forest and all that biz, but now, they were actually home free.

Dipper was wrong, of course.

He couldn't have known about the one robot lion that had stayed attached to the ship, just outside their view from the dome. He couldn't have known that its saws were less than a minute from puncturing the nuclear reactor's pressure chamber. He didn't know that the resulting crash would send the ship to oblivion, and that he and the lion would follow it soon after.

He didn't know any of that.

But he did notice when something strange happened.

A small blast, and a sound like rushing air, whipped through the turbulent air of the cabin. A brilliant flash of blue light illuminated Wendy for a split second, and when it passed, the UFO's engine noise had faded. The vehicle had gone into a powerless dive, with the rushing air spinning it this way and that, as if its pilot had suddenly given up all control.

"What was that?" Dipper yelped, as he blinked his eyes to clear the spots. "What happened? We're losing altitude! Wendy, what's-! Wendy?"

A change seemed to have come over her. She was still seated, just the way she'd been. Still just as sweaty as she was, still clad in her full armor. But all of a sudden, she wasn't excited or laughing or yelling, she was just sitting still. Her hands were no longer gripping the controls, but rather held in her lap, seemingly clutched around something small. She didn't react. She just sat there, mouth half open, eyes glazed over, staring down, entranced, at whatever it was she held.

In a situation of any less peril, Dipper would have been curious. But survival was foremost on his mind at the moment, so he grabbed the shoulder of her armor, and shook her. "WENDY! Wendy are you okay? Wendy, please wake up! Are you okay?!"

She blinked, pulled whatever it was a little closer to her chest, and her head slowly rotated to look at him.

Her eyes met his.

"Dude." Her voice was small, almost inaudible. And she had the strangest, saddest, most far-away look in her eyes.

"Wendy! What's wrong?" Dipper pulled his hands away. "I mean, I'm sorry I shouldn't've shook you but I-"

"Nothing…" Wendy muttered. "Nothing's wrong… Nothing… Nothing…" She blinked, and turned her gaze back forward. Her eyes landed on the window, and she shoved whatever she'd been holding into her pocket.

She seemed on top of things again. "I'm okay…" She whispered. "I'm okay… OKAY." Her voice regained its strength, and a smile broke out on her face. "OKAY LET'S DO THIS!" She grabbed the joysticks, spun them left, then up, then forward, and now the vehicle was stabilized. She pulled both sticks as far back as they'd go, and the ship curved away from its imminent impact with the ground.

Now they were gliding low across the treetops. "Okay… One of the robots didn't come loose with the others!" Wendy informed him. "Hang onto something dude!"

"Wait, what? How do you kn—"

She twisted both sticks as far to the right as they went. The artificial gravity engines on one side of the ship swapped polarity completely, and the vehicle began spinning. The force of the rotation pressed Dipper into the side of his seat, and Wendy into the side of her own seat, almost on top of him. His inner ear gave up any attempt at determining up-and-down, and all he could do was squint his eyes shut and cry out. "WE-E-E-E-E-E-NDY-Y-Y WHA-A-A-A-AT-!"

* * *

The robot lion weighed roughly 4 tons. Which sounds like a lot, but its hardened titanium claws could normally take this weight easily; actions like climbing and grappling were second nature to it, and once it got these hooks gripped into something, there was little way to pry them loose. Especially so now, as it watched though terrified eyes as the landscape sped by below, and all its instincts told it that the slightest misstep would be its undoing. Its hooks were dug deep into the vehicle's frame, and there they would stay.

But as the wing rocked and jerked and spun ever faster beneath it, the centrifugal force began to weigh on it. Stress began to build, half again, then twice, then 3 times its own body weight. 12 tons of force. 2 front paws, so 6 tons per paw. 4 hooks per paw, so 1.5 tons per hook.

There comes a point when enough is enough.

5 of the titanium claws tore loose, and the other 3 snapped, and then there was nothing beneath its feet, and it was falling toward the trees.

In much the same manner as Earthly cats, it twisted itself around to land on its feet. Its eyes scanned over the approaching ground, and saw that it was going to land in a shallow streambed. It angled its feet to match the contours of the rocks and slope.

To no avail.

The impact tore it open, and shattered the frame in its legs and back.

So it lay there among the wet stones, and it never moved again. Perhaps its eyes glanced about helplessly for a few minutes. Perhaps its antennae twitched and extended as it tried to call for help. But it was in the same place it had always been fated to be: lying in a stream with a broken back, paralyzed, watching its fluids empty into the water, feeling its energy and life fizzle away.

There was another reality it couldn't have remembered; a reality which might have happened if the pilot hadn't dislodged it. A reality where it would have fought a brave young human, and died in this same exact place. It would have been these same rocks, these same trees, almost the exact same injuries, and this same pose. Everything would have been identical. It was a cruel sort of fate that brought it again to this scene of death. A redoing of undone history, a natural closure of sorts.

Everything was just exactly the same as it would have been. All except for the young human, whom the future had spared.

* * *

A minute later, maybe less, maybe more, the alien spacecraft descended above the Mystery Shack. It wobbled a little as it hovered into something vaguely resembling a standstill, bumped once into the side of the building, tumbled the last few meters, and settled to the ground upside-down.

Its engines wined tiredly as it rolled itself back right-side-up, and finally came to a rest right between Soos' truck and the Stans' RV. As if nothing in the world were more natural than a spaceship in a parking lot. As if everything in the universe, right down to the smallest detail, was all going exactly according to plan.

"Oh… Wow, that was pretty crazy, huh?" Dipper laughed. "Stupid machine felt like it was trying to kill me…"

Wendy released the controls, and sat there for a moment looking at them with a sort of detached, even nervous demeanor. She was perfectly motionless, except for slow breathing.

"Hey…" Dipper frowned. "You okay?"

"Uh… I… I…" She turned fully to face him, and looked him up and down.

He met her eye. He didn't recognize her expression and couldn't describe it, something between happy and sad and tired. But something about it made him feel… Kind of cold inside. Like the grim and frightened words of a thousand damning prophecies. His smile slowly disappeared, and he glanced side to side, wondering if perhaps there was something else he should know about. His eyes landed back on hers.

"Hey…" He asked again. "Are you okay?"

She swallowed. "Uh… Yeah. Yeah. Another happy landing, right?"

"Yeah." He shrugged. "Uh… Yeah. Yeah, that was pretty crazy, huh? Good job, uh. Flying the ship. Piloting. You're, uh… I mean, that was pretty awesome… Of you."

"…Thanks…"

"…Yeah."

They stood there awkwardly for a few seconds, until Wendy quietly asked. "…C-can I hug you?"

"Uh…" Dipper blinked. "Sure." He spread his arms.

Wendy bent down to his level, and pulled him close. Her fingers dug into his hair, her head pressed into his neck, and she squeezed. He found himself lifted off the ground completely, and not able to breath quite as easily as he might like. It was warm and close and still in her arms, and he felt like he needed to say something.

But neither said anything.

* * *

Mabel found herself sitting in Robbie's van, wearing her old clothes, holding Waddles. She turned her head toward the driver's seat, to tell Robbie that maybe it wasn't such a good idea to head down into the bunker. But Robbie wasn't there.

She turned her head back forward, and saw Ford's metal decoy tree, retracted into the ground by about 20 feet. She saw the spiral staircase extended around the rim, and realized that Robbie must already be down there.

The time jump had been off.

"OH NO NO NO NO…!" Mabel leapt out the door of the van, sprinted across the trail and down the stairs, to pound on the metal door at the bottom. "No nonono Robbie come out! I didn't mean it! I shouldn't've sent you down there! Come back! I… Oh… Oh no, oh no… Okay. Okay, he's free. He's free and you're in there too and… OOOOH UGH…"

Waddles sniffed at her ankle curiously. She picked him up and hugged him for support.

She looked around. _Okay… Well, I can't just go in after him. Sam would just kill me too… Or… Wait, no I guess he's not named 'Sam' anymore. Now he's just 'The Shifter'. He hasn't named himself yet. He hasn't even become his own character yet. He doesn't even know who he is or what he's going to do. He's almost… Innocent… NO NO STOP, DON'T THINK ABOUT THAT NOW! You need to focus Mabel!_

She climbed back up to the top of the stairs, and stood gazing down at the door. _Wait a minute._ She realized. _The time machine is still somewhere around. Wendy has it! That means… That means Robbie isn't in any danger at all! We can just come back and save him whenever we get around to it! Later today or even tomorrow! It works! Easy peasie!_

Mabel turned to the lever on the metal tree. Now all she had to do was make sure the Shifter stayed sealed down there… A quick trick shot from her grappling hook pulled it into the closed position.

The secret entrance creaked and groaned and rumbled and raised back up closed again, sealing Robbie down there with the Shifter.

"Okay, aaaaaany minute now…" Mabel bit her lip. "Aaaaaaany minute…"

Just as she suspected, Robbie appeared beside her in a flash of light. He looked a little shook-up, and he was blinking in the light, and he had some alien mucus on the collar of his shirt where he'd been grabbed, but for the most part he looked a'ight. And he was also bleeding from his nose, and the blood was red, so that means he must, in fact, be the real deal.

"ROBBIE!" She latched onto him and hugged him very tight. "I knew you'd be okay!"

"AHH the monster is free!" Robbie announced. "And there's also a… A weird person down there!" He stuttered and frowned as he tried to put it all together. "She said I was a sucky Robbie, and then she punched me in the nose! None of this makes any sense!"

"Oh, that was probably just Wendy." Mabel explained. "We have a time machine now! It's a big long story that I can't tell anyone because it's a secret."

"…Oh…" Robbie rubbed his nose, and the expression on his face said that this was all very sucky and unfair. "Like… Stupid… Like, I AM Robbie… What's she mean I'm a sucky Robbie?"

"Oh, she just means that before we got the time machine and undid everything, the Shifter killed you and took your place, and Tambry liked him more than you."

"HE WHAT?! SHE WHAT?! LIKE, LIKE, LIKE! LIKE… LIKE STUPID!"

"Yeeeeeeah maybe there's a lesson to be learned here, huh?" Mabel elbowed him with a wink.

"Like what?"

"Uh…" She came up blank. "Like, uh… I dunno. Be excellent to each other!"

"Like, stupid…" Robbie mumbled again under his breath. "…Time travel, huh… And he… He went out with Tambry… Like, how MUCH did Tambry like him?"

"Weeeell…" Mabel transitioned easily to this new conversation topic, and began to count on her fingers. "She made 5 individual facepage posts, one of them edited to add more 'very's, as well as 4 bumblr posts, and 6 chirper posts. That's bleventeen status updates in total. Apparently, there was some kinda romantic meal, a real deep heart-to-heart, and some kissing."

"KISSING?" Robbie spun around and glared down at the forest floor. He stomped his foot, as if the shifter would be able to hear all the way down beneath the bedrock. "You were gonna kiss MY girl, you stupid, fat, gross, slimy girlfriend-kissing, life-stealing, better-Robbie-being stupid jerk? I'LL SHOW YOU! I'LL HAVE, LIKE, _MORE_ ROMANTIC MEALS! AND _THEN!_ THEN THERE WILL BE _MORE_ KISSING! AND THEN THERE'S GONNA BE, LIKE, MUSIC OR SOMETHING YOU STUPID STUPID STUPID…" He irately twisted his face one way and then the other, and his fingerless gloves clenched and unclenched as he raged at his new rival.

"Weeeeell, it's alright now though, isn't it?" Mabel smiled.

"He'd still be kissing my girl… Stupid…" Robbie mumbled. "I guess it's a good thing time travel is a thing…"

"Yeah…" Mabel laughed, thinking how Robbie didn't know half of it. "Yeah, it really is, huh?"

"…So Wendy has the 'time machine'?"

"Uh… Oops, wait, did I tell you that?"

"…Yeah…"

"I shouldn't have told you that."

"Well… Uh… Do you think she'd let me borrow it?" Robbie asked after a moment's thought. "Because, like, I still feel really bad about hypnotizing her last Summer, and it'd be great if I could, like, go back and—"

" _NO you can't have it_ in fact I shouldn't even be telling you this because it's a secret it's classified government business move along sir nothing to see here." Mabel informed him. "…And, uh…" She chewed her lip. "It's also magic. It can only be used by, uh… Girls. Girls of pure heart. So sorry."

"Oh… Okay…" Robbie scratched his head. "Yeah, I guess I'm not a girl, huh."

"Yeah… And your heart isn't pure."

"Well…! Okay, yeah…"

"Yeah… And it's a super secret secret too, so don't tell _anybody_ about it, alright?" Mabel reminded him.

"Yeah…"

"Like, seriously, actually, please don't. Because we'll mind wipe you if you do. We have the means. I'm not bluffing, you better watch out, we'll come for you."

"Geez, okay."

"Yeah…"

"Yeah…"

"Yeah… And hey, look on the bright side!" She smiled. "If you hadn't hypnotized Wendy, then she might not have broken up with you!"

"Well… Wait, what? How is that the bright side? That sucked."

"Well think about it! Wendy wasn't right for you!" Mabel told him. "She's a hip, rustic tomboy who likes old movies and stuffed animals and stupidly dangerous shenanigans and is okay with living up in the hills with slow internet. She never would've _really_ appreciated you for being the dark, edgy, delightfully devilish scoundrel you are… But the _true_ love of your life on the other hand…"

 _Hmm…_ Robbie remembered how much _Tambry_ appreciated his tight pants and eyeliner and the way he like totally shredded the guitar. _Much_ more than Wendy… "Ugh… Yeah… Hrrrgh… HMMMRRRGGGJAARRARGH all right!" He growled at Mabel. "So. Tambry. I'll drop you off at the Shack, but then I gotta get to the concert. Gotta see her… How many posts did you say she made about how great a Robbie the Shapeshifter was?"

"Bleventeen or so."

"I'll show him…" Robbie clenched a fist, and stomped off toward his van. "I'll show him good… You mark my words, Girl Dipper: by the end of THIS week, THIS Robbie will have Tambry making TWENTY posts about how great he is… And then he's gonna, like, get MARRIED or something maybe. It's gonna be EPIC and THIS Robbie is gonna, gonna… Why, this Robbie is gonna show that stupid, good-for-nothing slime-head how to REALLY show a girl a good time doggonit by gosh by golly oh my friggin' geez…"

" _That's_ the lesson to be learned!" Mabel encouraged him, as she climbed into the passenger seat. "I'm glad you learned it! …Wait, are you really gonna ask her to marry you?!"

"I-What?" He fumbled and dropped his keys. "Wait, no, I didn't mean… No, not _actually_! I mean… Not _yet_ , I mean… I mean NO! Ugh, stupid, stupid…"

"Ha ha! But you said it though! If you promise not to tell anybody about time travel, I promise not to tell her about your wild fantasies!"

"FINE! UGH! GOSH! Stupid stupid stupid…" He started the vehicle, and the engine puttered to life.

"Alright!" Mabel turned and pointed up the road toward the Mystery Shack. "AWAY, my valiant chauffeur!" She commanded him. "I think it's time we wash our hands of this icky business, and barge our way bravely onward toward the FUTURE!"

"Stupid…"

"HOMEWARD!"

* * *

Wendy gripped her fingers around the upper rim of the airlock, and hoisted herself out before extending a hand down to help him up.

As she set him down beside her, he glanced around the top of the ship's hull. He noticed a large jagged hole that had been broken in the glass paneling. Beneath, the metal framework and engine components were scarred and dented; the unmistakable wounds of grinding saws.

"Woah…" Dipper blinked, as he approached the damage. "You, uh… You must've been right about the lion staying attached…"

"…Yeah, 'course I was right." Wendy grunted. "I'm… Like… Always right. And stuff."

Dipper reached into the hole and touched one of the dented pipes inside. He almost burned his hand. "OW! Augh. Wow, that could've been bad… Hey, how did you know anyway?"

"Oh…" Wendy shrugged. "Like… Uh… Uh… Like, I guess one side of the ship kinda felt a little heavy… And I think I heard it moving around out there, so yeah… Anyway, let's go dude. Before it… I dunno, I guess it's not gonna explode, but still."

"Yeah…"

They slid down the side of the curved hull, dropped off the rim into the grass, limped across the yard to the side porch, and plopped down on the sofa.

They sat in an easy sort of silence for a few minutes, occasionally groaning or muttering or massaging their aching limbs.

Wendy began to unbluckle and loosen her armor. Piece after piece she removed, and tossed them all on the porch beside her. As the bulky clutter came off, she flexed her limbs and stared at herself in quiet amazement. She'd felt like she'd been sick for days now. The radiation poisoning from the crash had nearly destroyed her immune system, and she'd spent every moment since: the exploration, the imprisonment, the escape, the fight, feeling weak and small and impotent. Like half the woman she ought to be. But now, as the armor came off, she realized that it really was all gone. None of it had ever happened. Aside from the injuries and the stresses of today alone… She was strong again. She was herself again. Hesitantly, she lifted up her shirt to inspect her belly, and saw that the stab wound was gone, without a scar or a memory. They'd undone it. They really had undone it…

She looked back at Dipper. He was having quite a difficult time getting the shoulder pads up past his head, having forgotten that he needed to loosen the straps first. After a couple seconds of struggling with the plastic plates up around his chin, he let it back down, fumbled momentarily with the buckles, and tried again. It worked the second time. He tossed the pads down next to Wendy's, then took a moment to straighten his hair down over his birthmark, and subtly readjusted his jeans for some private reason. He saw she had her shirt lifted up, and quickly looked away.

He was trying ever-so-slightly too hard not to look like a dork. And failing, naturally.

Just like normal.

As she put her shirt down, she suddenly stifled a laugh. "You're a lot of trouble, you know that?"

"Huh?"

"Oh, uh… Oh, nothing."

"Oh." Dipper fiddled his thumbs in his lap, and wondered for a second why things were suddenly so awkward. For most of this week, things had been surprisingly non-awkward… When was the easy banter supposed to start up again? Whatever happened to that? "Uh…" He decided he may as well speak up. "Yeah, that was pretty crazy, huh?" He nodded back at the ship.

"That's the third time you've said that exact same sentence in as many minutes." Wendy gave a small smile.

"Oh… Really… Oops. Yeah. Well. Uh."

"Yeah…" She chuckled. "That really was something else…" She seemed as eager as he was to talk again, but she had no idea what to say either.

"Maybe if we do that again…" Dipper thought out loud. " _I'll_ drive."

"You…" She blinked, and slowly realized that he was joking. "Aww… Oh, c'mon man, don't gimme that." She smirked at him. "That was _fun_ … I mean… I mean hey, when's the last time you saw somebody bust out moves like _that_ with a spaceship, huh?"

A smile twitched at the corner of his mouth. "…You drive spaceships about as well as you drive cars."

"Yeah, well…" She laughed again as she struggled to think of a retort. Indeed, she was struggling just to remember _today_. Struggling to remember the whole fateful flight: those events which had transpired objective moments ago, but which felt to her like a foggy, distant dream, overshadowed by all the terribleness since… "Well…" Slowly, as she searched her brain for happier thoughts, the details began to come back to her. "Well, you read Alien-ese about as well as you read Spanish." She prodded. "'That's the reactor ignition' you said. 'push that button' you said. 'try those switches over there' you said… But it wasn't any of those, was it?"

"No… No, we made it out by dumb luck…" Dipper admitted.

"Yeah…" Wendy closed her eyes and remembered the first part of today. Remembered it better now, and fondly.

"Ugh… Sorry." Dipper sighed.

She blinked. "Yeah… Hey, you know what, I'm sorry too, ha ha… I think I only noticed that one last lion at the last second. Almost blew us up… I bet… I guess I am a pretty bad pilot all-in-all…"

"Ahh… It's fine…" Dipper grabbed the collar of his shirt, and turned it towards her to show the stain. "It's just barf. It washes out."

"Ha ha… Ooooh… That's gross dude." She yarded one of her boots off, and threw it at him. It was quite sweaty on the inside, and he instinctively recoiled from the reek even as he caught it.

"Augh! Wow, _you're_ gross!" He threw the it back at her.

"No you." She threw it back.

"No you..."

Sometime during all this, a gothic, edgy purple van came rolling up the drive.

"Uh oh." Wendy frowned, and missed catching the boot. It hit her in the face.

"What?" He followed her gaze.

"Robbie."

"Uh oh."

"Umm… Let me do the talking."

"Right."

As soon as the van's driver noticed the UFO (which was taking up about 5 parking spaces, one of which he'd been aiming for) the van's brakes squealed and it slid to a stop, its wheels kicking up little clouds of dust.

The driver-side door opened, and Robbie peaked out, frowning at the spaceship.

With a sigh, Wendy made to stand up. "LOOK DUDE…" She announced in his direction.

Robbie looked at her, and in an instant ducked back into his van. "NEVER MIND ALL THAT!" He recited.

"Huh?" Wendy frowned.

"Wait, what?" Dipper leaned past her.

"I don't want any more of this!" He announced. "So NEVER MIND ALL THAT! I swear I didn't see anything! Aliens aren't real! Monsters aren't real, spaceships aren't real and time travel ain't real and that thing right there is just swamp gas! Just leave me the heck out of this, and don't brain wipe me!"

"Brain wipe?"

"Swamp gas?"

His head turned away from the window. "Alright, I gotta go! Tambry needs me!" He commanded. "Get out of my van, Girl-Dipper! Ride's over!"

The passenger door opened and closed, and the van spun around and sped off down the road.

"IF YOU CAN'T TAKE THE HEAT STAY OUT OF THE KITCHEN!" Dipper cupped his hands and yelled after him.

"YEAH, YOU HAVE FUN IN BORING TOWN, DUDE!" Wendy added.

"NEVER MIND ALL THAT!" Robbie's voice carried over the wind as he disappeared into the distance.

The dust cloud settled, revealing Mabel and Waddles standing there blinking.

"Hey there Mabel." Dipper waved. "Where've you guys been all day?"

"D-DIPPER!" Mabel squealed, and began to run toward them.

He didn't expect her to cross the entire yard quite as fast as she did, and so didn't raise his hands to shield himself until she'd already tackled him off his feet, and they'd landed in a pile and rolled off the porch into the grass. "YOU'RE OKAY YOU'RE OKAY I'M SO GLAD TO SEE YOU!" Mabel screeched.

"AUGH! OW! HEY! Yes! I'm okay! Yes, we're both okay! What the heck are you freaking out about?"

"Uh…" Mabel glanced at Wendy, who made a sign of subtly zipping her lips. "Uh, _nothing_ , actually!" Mabel shrugged, released Dipper from the embrace, and helped him back to his feet. "So hey! Wow! You escaped from the Forest of Daggers! That's cool!" She nodded. "And you're home really fast! How'd you do it?"

"Umm…" Dipper frowned. "You _did_ see the big spaceship that's literally sitting _right there_ , didn't you?"

"Oh _yeeeeeeah_." Mabel turned and looked at it. "Thaaaat. Wait, so it actually flies?!"

"How the heck would it have _gotten_ here if-"

"So not only you survived, but it survived too!" Mabel realized outloud. "We actually have a real live UFO to play with now!"

"No!" Dipper put his hands on his hips. "Okay, first of all, it's not a toy, it's a _vehiclee_! A _tool_! And a fairly dangerous tool, so that makes it about the exact _opposite_ of a plaything. And secondly, it's not a UFO. 'UFO' stands for 'Unidentified Flying Object.' Whereas _that_ machine is a nuclear-powered sub-light cargo shuttle manufactured on Trilazzxx Beta, as exploratory equipment for Colonial Vessel 46.18'\\. That is, a _perfectly well identified_ extraterrestrial spacecraft."

"OH MY GEEEEEEEE…! Literally everything is going exactly incredibly perfectly! This is the very best day ever then! What are you guys doing out _here_?! We've got to tell everyone we have a UFO to play with!" Mabel grabbed Dipper's wrist and more-or less drug him inside the Shack.

"Hey, where you going with him?" Wendy raised a fist tiredly. "We weren't done talking and stuff!"

"Soos! Melody! Grunkle Stan! Great Uncle Ford!" Mabel yelled at the top of her lungs. "You guys have to get out here! Throw a party! Load the confetti! Prepare the fattened calf! Dipper and Wendy got back safe! Everyone's okay! AND BOY do they have a story! There's aliens and aliens spaceships and all kinds of amazing things that happened! Tell them, Dipper! Tell them how we WON!"

"DUDE!" Soos set down his plunger, and raised his eyepatch. "For real, girl-bro?"

"What's going on?" Melody called from gift shop.

"Hey, quiet down, some of us are trying to sleep!" Stan opened one eye and growled from the recliner.

"It's 3 in the afternoon, Stan!" Ford stepped out of his lab, and gave Stan's recliner a kick as he walked past. "Look alive, this sounds important!"

The whole group filed out the front door and out into the parking lot, where they stood around the spaceship, oohing and ahhing and poking and prodding and riddling Dipper with all manner of questions.

Wendy found herself all alone on the porch, watching the procession in her periphery, feeling quite detached indeed, like an alien herself. So she eased herself back down deeper into the couch, and put her legs up on one of the trash cans. "Yeah. If anybody wants me." She muttered, as she pulled her hat down over her eyes. "I'll be right here."

* * *

There was a LOT of hubbub for the next hour and a half. Soos and Mabel insisted on playing in and around the ship, Stan put up signs to keep tourists away, Melody made everyone big, spicy victory omelets, and Ford called up McGucket to have him come over and give the thing a professional inspection.

Plans were made.

Dipper told them about the ghosts they'd found, and about the origins of the forest, and about the idea to destroy the entire thing using a tractor beam from the main ship. Everybody agreed that this was an excellent idea, and decided to go down there tomorrow to set it up.

As expected, Mabel didn't like that plan so much. So she paid more attention to what they heard from McGucket: From his inspection of the shuttle, he'd determined that it was actually in a surprisingly good condition. A few repairs to the pressure seals, some patches to the damaged reactor, a refill of its coolant, and a cleaning of its crusty outer hull, and it might be able to fly about almost like new. _Maybe even make it into space…_

An idea began to brew, way, way back in the thinky parts of Mabel's head. And she was pretty sure that _this_ idea, unlike her regular ideas, was actually a _good_ one…

Throughout the whole thing, Dipper found himself quite uncomfortably at the center of attention. Everybody seemed to want to give him a hug or a handshake, and hear from him what all had happened, and when, and where, and how the devil he'd done it. Ford was proud of him, Stan was proud of him, Soos just wanted to hear about those swag robot dudes… And for some reason, Mabel never stopped singing his praise. It was as if to her, any one of today's discoveries or adventures was less important than Dipper simply being here, and being the hero.

It was enough to induce a mild headache.

He couldn't make her hear sense, he couldn't get out of the spotlight, he couldn't even quite adequately communicate how little credit he deserved for what happened today; after all, _Wendy_ was the one who did most of the heavy lifting, Wendy was the one who flew the ship, and Wendy saved his life more times than he could count.

But Mabel was too excited, and everyone had too many questions and thoughts and congratulations, and nobody wanted to leave the ship (and the victory omelets) to walk across the entire yard to talk to the reclining redhead.

But he wanted to. Frequently through it all, his eyes kept straying back to the porch, just to make sure she was still there. A quiet, doubting voice kept whispering in his ear, threatening all the terrible things that might happen. _Maybe she'll get bored over there. Maybe she'll go home. Maybe she's jealous that everyone's ignoring her. Maybe she's angry because Mabel's giving me all the glory. Maybe she remembers why I want to talk to her, and doesn't want to talk about it. Maybe she's like Robbie: maybe she's had enough of this adventuring business for one lifetime, and wants to just go home. Maybe by now, all she wants to do is obey her dad, and go get a good job somewhere far away._

Maybe, if he didn't keep looking over at her, he'd miss her leaving.

It was almost an hour until he could slip away, and to do it, he had to convince Soos that the ship could be turned on by speaking the magic word. While everybody tried to help him guess it, Dipper ducked out and hurried back toward the Shack.

He dashed into the gift shop, glanced around briefly to make sure Stan wasn't watching, then grabbed a pair of ice cream sandwiches from the cooler. He almost sprinted through the kitchen to the back door, and came through so fast that he almost tripped over her own shoes.

And Wendy was still there.

And she was fast asleep.

He stood there watching for a minute, with an ice cream in both hands, feeling like an idiot. Finally he set one down on the couch beside her, then sat himself down on the other side of the couch. It felt wrong to eat his before she ate hers, and it also felt wrong to wake her to eat hers, and equally wrong to just put both of them back.

So he just watched her sleep.

Something in the back of his mind was screaming at him, telling him that something wasn't right, that he should do something, and that she wasn't okay; he couldn't understand what it was, but the feeling was strong. Finally, as if she could hear his thoughts, she suddenly moved. Her body spasmed and she sat upright with a gasp. Her eyes were wide and wild, and they darted around the porch frantically, until they finally settled on Dipper. He frowned at her in confusion as she slowly calmed back down. "Oh…" She sighed, and blinked slowly. "Oh… H-hey. Hey dude."

"Uh… Hi Wendy. Uh… Hi. Yeah. Good to see you."

"Yeah… How long was I out…?"

"Uh… An hour or so? I dunno."

"Man…" She rubbed her face through her hands. "Is an hour enough time to have nightmares?"

"Is that what happened?"

"Yeah… I just… Ah, never mind, I'm sorry man, I'm just… Just really tired." She leaned back again, and collapsed on the cushions. "Just really… Really… Tired."

"…Sorry." He didn't know what else to say.

She made a great show of trying to lift one arm, only to have it fall back down. "Yep. Too tired. Wendy's paralyzed from the neck down. Stop the presses, it's for real this time."

"Ha ha… Oh… Well, I got you ice cream."

She noticed the treat sitting next to her hand, and blinked slowly. "…Ice cream…"

"Yeah… I mean, if you're too tired for ice cream, then I guess I can put it back or…"

" _HMM Ice Cream_ …" She snatched it up and began to unwrap it.

"Oh."

"Did you pay for this?"

"No."

"Swag." She took a bite. "What Stan don't know won't hurt us, right?"

"Ha ha! Yeah…" He finally opened his and began to eat it, and everything was silent again. It was an awkward silence. Felt like something should be said, but there wasn't really anything to say. He scratched nervously at one of his robo-bug bites, and ate his ice cream too slowly to keep it from dripping.

"Hey, uh… Are you okay?" He finally asked.

"Uh?" She blinked at him.

"Like… I mean, sorry, it's just that, with the nightmare and the being tired and the… The thing in the middle of all the flight where you just… Let go of the controls and went all quiet. What was that? Did something happen? I mean… I mean, are you okay? Everything good?"

"Oh yeah…" Wendy shrugged. "Yeah, I'm good. Everything's good."

"Okay… I just thought it might be a seizure, or some kind of heart attack, or… Like, one of those things where it turns out your friend has this debilitating disease and she's gonna die or something…"

"…Dude… Chill…"

"Okay."

Her eyes drifted down to her ice cream. "You know." She said.

"What?"

"Ice cream… For some reason I thought there'd be ice cream. After everything ended, after everything was okay, once we finally had a chance to sit down… I dreamed that you and I would sit down together, right here, and eat this ice cream… It's just… Just the picture I had." She took another bite. "…It could've turned out worse. A jillion things could've gone different. Things could have exploded or been destroyed or burned or irradiated, good people could've been hurt, or… But instead we're eating ice cream. Like the dream wasn't a dream. Like it was… Something else. Like a vision of how it ought to be, and the way it really is… I dunno."

Dipper nodded slowly with a confused frown, pretending to understand, then giving up. "…You lost me." He said.

"I know…" Wendy sighed. "…Don't worry about it… I'm just glad that… I mean I'm just glad." She let her gaze wander out across the valley, as the warm, bright sun slowly drooped toward the cliffs, bringing the afternoon to a peaceful close. "I'm just glad."

"Oh."

They sat for a few minutes more in silence. This time it was better. It felt like an easy silence.

Wendy slowly stretched, and a breath of air slowly escaped through her nose. Dipper watched a single melty drop of ice cream fell from her hand to her jeans as she yawned, then felt like yawning himself. He leaned back against the cushions.

He felt happy. And he could feel that she was too.

Dipper took a deep breath.

Wendy took a deep breath.

" _So…_ " He began.

" _So…_ " She began at the exact same time. This seemed to cause some form of mutual interruption, forcing them to both stop talking.

"Go ahead."

"No, you go ahead."

"Okay…" She continued. "So… So, if I remember right… We started a conversation earlier that we never got to finish."

"Oh…" Dipper stammered. "Oh yeah. Uh… We did, huh? Yeah…" He took a bite of his ice cream.

"About how this adventure might very well be our last." Wendy continued. "About how if we're not careful, we might never hang out again. About how I'll miss you and you'll miss me and neither of us really want that to happen and, like, what should we do about that…?"

"Uh… Uh… Yeah…" He ate his ice cream slightly too fast and got brain freeze. He made a mental note to bring it down a notch.

"Hmm." Wendy grunted.

Finally Dipper was staring down at the finished popsicle stick, wiping the last little bits of strawberry gunk off his face. His ice cream was gone, and with it had gone his one excuse to not speak. He opened his mouth. Then he closed it, cleared his throat, and tried again. "Wendy, uh… I was wondering if tomorrow… Uh… If… Uh…"

"What?"

He looked at her.

She sure was pretty.

"Uh…" A spell of itchiness seized him about that time, and it got just a little too much to bear. "Uh… Hmm."

"What?" She repeated.

"…Never mind."

"No no no no!" She insisted, and overcame her tiredness enough to sit up straighter. "We started a conversation earlier, and now we better finish it. And you just started a sentence just now, so you darn better finish that too. If you really do have something you want to say, you darn better man up and speak up, or who knows; one of us could die in the meantime. You never know when you'll never have another chance, so take it now. SPEAK man."

"UH!" He squirmed nervously. "No, it's not… Wait, do you know what I'm going to say?"

"I know I didn't come all this way just to listen to you stutter."

Dipper thought that was a weird thing to say, but he could tell she meant well. And for the first time, it dawned on him that she _might_ actually _want_ it. "Uh…" He stuttered one last time, then set his jaw, and finally said. "Okay." Then he looked her in the eye and, with a truly monumental effort of courage, opened his mouth and said. "Wendy… Do you want to go on a date with me tomorrow?"

She finished off her ice cream, and flicked the popsicle stick into the bushes. A smile might have twitched at the corner of her mouth. Then it stopped twitching, and spread across her whole face. "You know dude." She beamed. "I gotta be perfectly straight with ya… For a while there, I honestly thought you'd never ask."


	29. The Moon and Back

_Nightmares._

 _Terrible nightmares._

Wendy was sick. The horrendous crash of the ship had racked her body with radiation, destroying her immune system and plunging her into delirium and fever. Her nose and eyes ran strange fluids, her muscles were weak, she was so tired, but her enemies had no such handicaps.

 _She_ was coming. No, she's already here. She's already been here… She came, she saw, she conquered, she did it _again_. He's dead again! The despicable, hyperintelligent monster swore to murder every man woman and child in this entire town and she _did_! Everyone's gone, and I'm the only one left!

And now she's hunting you in the dark. And her voice is whispering taunts in your ear as you gasp for your last breath. "You messed up." Gloating triumph hissing between dripping fangs. "You don't know my work, and you can't undo it all. I still know you. I still remember you. I still watch you, but all the more intently now, because I put together what you did. Once again you will come to the end of yourself… Murderer…"

The spear stabbed Wendy in the stomach.

Wendy opened her eyes, and sat bolt upright in bed.

And she felt…

Good.

She felt fresh, well-rested, alert, strong… _Really_ good…

Too good to be true.

Much to good.

She looked around her room, searching for evidence to either confirm or deny her hopes and her fears and the nightmare that used to be true. _What happened? What reality is this? Which side of my brain is telling the truth right now?_

She gingerly felt over her body, searching for the bruises and stabs and burns of battle. She found a few, but they were small, and of the ordinary variety. On the inside, she didn't hurt at all.

How about… How about the broken axe? The one that got shattered during Dipper's duel to the death. Her eyes darted to her windowsill, but it wasn't there anymore… She finally located it leaning by the foot of her bed beside her crossbow. It was all fixed.

Where was his journal? The book she kept as a guide in his absence… It wasn't on her desk anymore. Instead of the blue, leather-bound book, there was just her own scrappy, spiral-bound diary, opened to the most recent page. Small words in her own handwriting had been scrawled in the center of the paper.

 _Never forget._

She stared at the words for a moment, long enough for her mind to finish waking up. By the time it did, she came to remember what was true. She took a deep breath, rubbed the last of the sleep from her eyes, and got out of bed.

 _Never forget._

Her dad was waiting in the kitchen, flipping through what looked like a stack of photographs. "Hey dad." She mumbled. "…What's goin' on? I thought you'd be at work."

"SUNDAY." He grunted.

"Oh yeah…" She blinked. "Right. Yeah. I guess it would be…"

" 'WOULD BE' MY PITS. IT _IS_ SUNDAY."

"Uh… Yeah. Right. That's what I meant." Wendy glanced at the calendar.

"MADE YA BREAKFAST." He pushed a plate of eggs and sausage toward her.

"Oh… Thanks."

She ate in silence for a few minutes, scarcely believing how ordinary their food and conversation was. Across the table, her dad kept flipping through the photos, mumbling and grunting quietly under his breath as he scratched his neck restlessly. They must be something important to him. Something that riled him up inside, made him remember, or made him think. Maybe they were pictures of mom.

"What ya got there?" She asked.

"NOTHIN'." He lied.

"Hmm." She nodded.

Yeah, probably mom.

Wendy took another bite of eggs, and pulled out the time machine as she chewed. She rotated the device slowly in her hands, watching the light reflect off the symbol on the front, plucking the pull-tab curiously, and thinking.

Thinking of Dipper. Thinking of Betty and Barney. Thinking of the shapeshifter. Thinking of mom.

Thinking of time.

Thinking of fate.

Thinking of death.

 _Oh, curses, will I have to deal with these thoughts for the rest of my life?_ These Grim thoughts, thoughts of danger and horrendous responsibility and that awful lonely heroism, standing in the dark with no one beside her… Murder. _Wendy the murderer._ She clutched the time machine a little tighter.

"WHAT YA GOT THERE?" He asked.

"Nothin'." She lied.

"HMM." He nodded.

 _Never forget._

Breakfast continued in silence.

* * *

Dipper opened his eyes.

He'd barely slept a wink last night, and he didn't even feel tired this morning. The first thought on his waking mind was the same one he'd finished the night with:

 _I ASKED WENDY OOOOUT!_

 _I FINALLY DID IT! I FINALLY ACTUALLY DID IT FOR REAL AND SHE SAID YEEEEES!_

YAAAAY!

He looked down at himself, and realized that he'd spent the entire night still fully dressed. In fact, not only was he still covered in jeans and a flannel jacket, but he was still wearing most of his armor. Apparently, he'd had so much craziness on his mind that he'd quite forgotten any of it was still there. Or maybe just because he'd spent the entire day in armor, and so had Wendy, so he left it on because it reminded him of her… Hmm… Well, now that he thought about it, that was kind of obsessive and weird. But maybe she wouldn't mind a little obsessive weirdness now that she was his… _Girlfriend…?_

 _AAAAGH GIRLFRIEND THAT'S TOO MUCH NO I CAN'T DO THAT I'M JUST THIRTEEN!_

 _…Naw. Naw, she ain't my girlfriend. Just a girl I'm hanging out with._

 _Yeah. Let's say that._

This was all such a HUGE deal for him.

When he got down to the kitchen, the whole family was still hunched around the table, chewing on Melodesserts (They were basically just biscuits with jam, but _something_ had to replace last Summer's atrocious 'Stancakes'.)

"Hey. G'morning." He addressed the family, as he grabbed a biscuit.

"Greetings." Ford nodded.

"Hang loose, dawg." Soos cocked a finger-gun at him.

"How's it going, Dipper?" Melody smiled.

Stan looked up from the newspaper. "Diddja _get any_ last night?"

Dipper frowned. "…Get any what?"

"Kisses." Ford sighed, as he shot a sharp glance at his brother. "He's asking if you got any kisses."

"AAAGH! AHH! UHH. NOPE." Dipper's face when red, and he shook his head a little harder than would probably be normal. "NOPE NO. HUH-UH. I just… Yeah. No. I don't think she even likes me really. I mean… She's _Wendy_ , you know Wendy, she's too cool for… That. Yeah, I just asked her on a date. It's no big deal. _Nooooo big deal aaaaaaat aaaaaall_ \- hey, why's everyone staring at me?"

"HMPH." Stan flicked the newspaper back up in front of his face. "Yer sister made it sound like a _huge_ deal."

"Yeah, she would, wouldn't she…" Dipper scoffed, and glanced around the table. "Hey, where is she anyway?"

"WAITING FOR HER CUE!" She appeared at the top of the stairs at that precise moment, wearing a new indigo sweater that said 'brobot', and had a picture of a robot wearing Dipper's hat. She slid noisily down the banister, and speed-strutted her way into the kitchen. A grander, more Mabel-esque entrance could not have been imagined.

But Dipper was still highly confused, because there was something sitting on top of Mabel's head. Something he thought had been lost days ago. Something that had mysteriously disappeared in a flash of blue light. Something he knew was dangerous.

Juan.

"Hey!" Dipper said.

"My word!" Ford adjusted his glasses. "Where'd you find it?"

"Dudes, it's that one robot bro!" Soos pointed.

"Don't put it on your head!" Stan barked. "It's got saws!"

"Yeah, yeah, don't worry! Don't worry!" Mabel untangled her hair from his treads, and brought him down. "He's good! He's friendly again, and sorry for sawing me! Aren't you good and sorry, Juan?"

"You know perfectly well that that _thing_ is too dangerous to live!" Ford drew a magnet gun. (He'd been keeping one handy ever since the whole robo-fiasco began.)

"NUH UH!" Mabel whipped out her phone, and held it in front of Juan. "If you shoot him, then you'll fry _my_ phone too, and then you'll have to answer to my _parents!_ "

"Curses!" Ford eased off the trigger.

Juan extended his saws and began casually chewing on the phone. Mabel didn't care.

"Come on, Mabel!" Dipper told her. "Don't be unreasonable about this. You know we have to kill these things after all that's happened… It's just responsible… And wait, where _did_ you find it anyway?"

Mabel turned to him and smiled. "Dipper!" She beamed.

"Umm… Yeah, hi…"

She threw both arms around him and squeezed. Juan's saws buzzed in her right hand uncomfortably close to his shoulder blades. "IT'S YOU! IT'S SO GREAT TO SEE YOU!"

"Yep!" He gasped for air in her embrace. "Yeah, I'm still me, thanks for asking. Not so tight please. Now, you have some explaining to do."

"Not as much as _you do, Romeo_!" She released him from the hug, and elbowed him. "What were you two _talking about_ last night, huh? Did you _get any kisses_?"

" _I_ asked first." Dipper frowned. "And seriously, could you _try_ to stay on-topic for more than 3 seconds at a time?"

"Okay, okay, okay… Alright. Two things." She said. "First of all: HAPPY TWIN BROTHER DAY!" She threw her arms around Dipper again.

"Gack! …Wait, Twin Brother's Day isn't a thing!" He couldn't pry her loose.

"Yuh-huh! It's a Hallmark holiday!" She explained. "Some company invented it to sell off their surplus greeting cards, it's like a total corporate conspiracy, but _we_ won't buy into their lies! That's why I didn't get you a card, just a big hug! It's a sentimental symbol that my love for you transcends all, up to and including time, space, and death itself!"

" _What._ "

"And second of all: FAMILY MEETING! I CALL A FAMILY MEETING!" She promptly jumped up on a chair, and made a big, sweeping motion with her arms, corralling everybody toward the kitchen table.

"We're all here already…" Stan gestured around the table.

"I count as 'family', right?" Melody clarified. "As wife of the son-like-figure of the father-like-figure…? Right?"

"Oh yeah, yeah, you're the new official _mother-like-figure_!" Mabel scooted her chair up to the table, and plopped herself down among them. "And since we know Abuelita always listens to everything, I guess we're all here! Okay! Let's talk about… _The plan._ "

"For dealing with the robots?"

"Yeah!"

"You mean _Wendy and I's_ plan?" Dipper clarified. "The whole gravitational reverse-nuke solution?" He realized that Wendy should probably be here for this, but the implications of calling her 'family' struck him as much too presumptuous, so he kept quiet.

"That's _part_ of the plan, but that's not the _whole_ plan." Mabel said. " _Your_ plan makes them all die. Every last one of them. And that way nobody will ever be able to use them and love them the way that I do."

"Mabel…" Dipper said. "I know you hate it, but… They do have to die. I know it's just been kind of whispered and talked about a lot, but now it's coming true. The Forest of Daggers is dangerous to us and anybody who might come after us. And if the world of science started poking around in it, a lot of dangerous things could be invented. So it _does_ have to be destroyed."

For just a moment, a very serious, solemn look crossed Mabel's face. "I know." She said. But it passed just as quickly, as she launched onto her next spiel. "…But what if total extinction was more than we needed to stay safe? What if we could… Transplant part of it? Keep it safe until the world is ready for it?"

"Oh really?" Ford crossed his arms. "And would you please elaborate on what you could possibly have in mind?"

"Yep! But before we begin… Has everybody read _Betty and Barney's_ story?" Mabel asked.

"No." Melody scratched her head.

"Yes." Ford nodded.

"Oh, yeah, aren't they those robot dawgs?" Soos was at least aware that the story existed.

"Who the heck is that?" Stan was not.

"They're the alien robot people who planted the Forest, way back like a hundred zillion quadrablujlian years ago!" Mabel opened up the alien translation app on a tablet, and set it down on the table. "This is the story that Dipper and Wendy found… Uh… Yesterday. Back in that UFO. This explains everything, and it explains why the robots aren't bad. They aren't bad at all, they're just in the wrong place… Go ahead! Read it!"

So they read it.

* * *

 _Author's Note:_

Aka, the entirety of Chapter 15. You remember that, don't you?

* * *

Soos was ready to cry by the time they reached the end of the document. Melody was at his shoulder comforting him, trying to convince him that _their_ marriage wouldn't end in lonely death. Ford was pointing out plot holes under his breath, Stan had already lost interest, Abuelita heard everything, and Dipper was first realizing how much of a dork Barney was.

"So you _see_?" Mabel encouraged them.

"See what?" Dipper asked.

"See that the robot creatures aren't bad! They're just regular, innocent animals. Maybe a little too territorial, but in the end, their whole problem is that they just don't belong on Earth. The only reason they're here is a misunderstanding; Betty and Barney didn't know this planet had people, because there were probably only a few Indians in Oregon at that point, who I bet were super easy to miss."

"Yeah." Dipper nodded. "I guess."

"So where do you think they _do_ belong?" Melody asked. "If not on Earth, then where…?" She put a hand over her mouth. "Wow." She frowned. "You know, the conversations in this house are just the weirdest…"

"Oh no, this is only the most mundane, dude." Soos patted her hand. "Wait till we get into dream demons and time babies, ha ha!"

"Yeah, yeah, okay, see, here?" Mabel pointed to a place near the middle of the document. "Barney describes their homeworld right here! He said that it's a little rocky moon with no air."

"Hmm…" Ford scratched his chin. "It does sound quite similar to a few of Jupiter or Saturn's larger satellites… Or perhaps the planets Pluto or Mercury, excepting the temperature difference."

"Yeeeeaaaah, how about something a little closer to home?" Mabel smiled. "Some place like…" She rushed over to the kitchen window, and paused for effect before flinging aside the drapes. " _THE MOOOON!_ "

They all gazed up at her target: the familiar crescent hanging low in the morning sky.

"Okay." Dipper hummed. " _Now_ I see where you're going with this."

"Yeah! Think about it!" Mabel explained. "There's no people up there! There aren't even any animals or anything at all that could be hurt or even inconvenienced! Just some old spaceships and flags to chew on! That means if we put them on the dark side, where astronomers can't see, then they'd never be able to be exploited or used by evil people! Science people of Earth might discover them _eventually_ , but before they can actually get to catch them or see how they work, they'd have time to think about them a long time and get ready for them. Science will have time to be _wise_ with them… And besides… This is what Betty and Barney probably would've wanted."

"Hmm…" Ford nodded. "Fascinating…"

"What…?" Melody frowned. "I mean seriously, _what_? Are you saying we should _put_ them up there? _How_? You know you can't just take a _plane_! You'd need a… A…" Her eyes drifted over toward the driveway, which was currently being occupied by a fully-functional flying saucer. "Oh yeaaah."

"Yes, I thought that was the rather obvious part of the plan." Ford said.

"Even _I_ put that together." Stan added.

"Sorry! Sorry!" Melody put up her hands. "I'm not used to thinking about stuff like this, alright?"

"Dude!" Soos smiled. "Dude, I love this! Dude! We're like NASA or something! I never in my life thought I would ever get to be a part of something so surpassingly bodacious! It's like we all get to be astronauts vicariously! I need to construct a cardboard flight control center post-haste! Who wants to practice saying 'Houston' and 'ignition' and 'we are go' and other space words with me?!"

"I do!" Mabel hooted.

"Same!" Melody smiled.

"Yes yes, it _is_ quite a fine idea…" Ford muttered, and turned back to his great niece. "Okay Mabel, it sounds like a good idea… And I do quite like it, but let's think about this, shall we?" He pulled out a paper, and began to sketch a rough outline.

"Yeah! We are go for _Operation Pines Colony Dark-Side Alpha™_!" Mabel hooted.

"No, not 'go'! We are not yet go…" Ford told her. "The plan has _several_ fundamental problems that I noticed right away, including but not limited to: 1) the difficulties of remotely controlling a translunar flight on a hillbilly budget, 2) the science of shipping a minimum breeding population for at least dozens of species, 3) the trickiness of keeping the specimens from _eating_ each other during transit or immediately after landing, and 4) the ethical issues of large-scale extraterrestrial cross-contamination."

"Uhh…" Mabel stared blankly. "Well if Noah could do it with a big wood boat, I bet we can do it with a spaceship!"

"Noah's ark was the size of a modern-day _destroyer_." Ford reminded her. " _We_ have what amounts to a _moving van_. With a nuclear system powering a gravity drive which we scarcely understand."

"Er, uh, yeah, well…"

Dipper listened to the ensuing discussion with half an ear. To him, all those technical problems sounded relatively easy to overcome. Most of them could probably be resolved using various clever engineering solutions, or just be handwaved some other way.

All in all, he had to admit that he was actually a little _proud_ of his sister. She'd put a good amount of thought into this. She'd been selfless enough to be recognize when things needed to end, and then be willing to part with the things she cared about; make sacrifices in the name of the greater good. She'd taken the time to be wise. And it _was_ a good idea.

But he did have a few problems. "Hey." He said. "Uh… Few things. For one, I think Juan's species _may_ be extinct already. I think he might be the last one left."

"…Really?" Mabel's face fell.

"Yeah… Wendy and I smashed a pack of maybe 7 with the saucer yesterday, and I doubt the ecosystem could have ever supported many more large carnivores…"

"Oh. Hmm…" Mabel nodded.

"And secondly, why isn't Wendy here?" Dipper added. "That flying saucer isn't ours. Wendy was the one who found it and flew it home. It's hers. She dibsed it."

Ford looked up with a frown. "What's 'dibs' mean?"

"Oh, dude, you've never heard of 'dibs'?" Soos asked. "That's the universal code of laying claim, dude."

"Her actions seem to be in full compliance." Melody added with a nod. "Her ownership of the vehicle is unassailable."

"Yeah!" Mabel piped up. "And she's part of our extended Mystery Family too, so we really shouldn't do anything without her!"

"YEAH!" Dipper agreed a little too enthusiastically.

"Alright, alright, fine…" Ford turned back to his sketch. "We won't be touch the ship today then. You can talk to her about it on your date tonight."

"AUGH!" Dipper yelped. "Oh… Oh yeah… That… Yeah, that's actually happening, isn't it? Wow…"

"Just because you can't believe it doesn't make it not so." Ford winked at him. "That's a common thread underlying all science." The old adventurer stood, rolled up the blueprints for Operation Pines Colony Dark-Side Alpha™, and made for the door. "Come on kids; we'll definitely need to get McGucket's input on this."

"Okay!" Mabel hugged Dipper one last time as they made for the door. He shrugged her off, wondering what all this affection was about.

* * *

Wendy spent a good long time in thought, and slowly put it all together into a plan she didn't like.

"HEY." Dan finally broke the silence. "BOYS AND I WERE GONNA GO FISHING IN A BIT. YOU WANNA COME?"

When she didn't respond or react for a minute, he frowned. "HEY!" He repeated, a little louder. "WENDY! YOU WANNA COME?"

"I huh? What?" She broke out of her brooding with a little start. "What'd ya say?"

"I SAID WE'RE GOIN' FISHING. WANNA COME?"

"Uh… No thanks. I'm good. I've got… Things. Stuff. Gotta do today."

"YA MEAN THAT DATE?"

"Uh… Yeah… That… Too…" She pushed away her unfinished breakfast.

"MM." He shuffled all the pictures together, and shoved them in his pocket. "WHERE'S THE DATE?"

"Uh… Uh… I dunno, wherever. Like, to tacos or something maybe, and then hang around the arcade if we get bored… I dunno, it was kinda non-specific I guess…" She suddenly changed the topic, and shoved the tape measure into her own pocket. "…Hey dad, can I borrow the truck today?"

"YOU EXPECT US TO WALK TA THE LAKE?"

"Uh… Oh yeah. Right. That… Uh… Never mind."

"YOU ALRIGHT?" Dan frowned. "YER ACTIN' REAL CONFUSED."

"No. Yeah. Well-no. I mean… No, I'm fine… I'm fine…"

Dan stared at her for a minute. "UH… IF YA NEED THE TRUCK FER THE DATE, I COULD DRIVE YA WHEREVER. DROP YOU AND THE GUY OFF IN TOWN. PICK YA UP LATER…"

"Uh… _You_ …? No!" She seemed to regain her focus.

"WHY NOT?"

"'Cause!"

"'CAUSE WHY?"

"You'll just make it terrible because you won't like him!"

"WHY NOT? HE ANOTHER ONE LIKE JOE?"

"Look, I know Joe turned out to be a bottom-feeding scum-sucker-"

"YET 'ERE WE ARE 2 MONTHS LATER AND YA ALREADY GOT _ANOTHER ONE_ I'M GONNA HATE."

"He ain't like Joe! And… Aaaaugh, it's just Dipper! The Pines dude? You know him. Gideon's nemesis, friends with the Manotaurs, the tree on the zodiac…? You know him, right?"

"YEAH, I'VE _MET HIM_." Dan growled. "HE'S A…" He suddenly paused. "WAIT… 'DIPPER'?"

"Yeah."

"HIS REAL, _ACTUAL NAME_ … IS DIPPER."

" _No_ , that's just a nickname. His real name is a secret."

Dan blinked.

"Couldn't make this up if I wanted to."

"EH… AND WHAT MAKES YOU THINK I'L HATE HIM?"

"'Cause… Uh… 'Cause you always hate everyone I hang around with! You hated Russ for being a self-important jock, Eli for being a crybaby, the guy with tattoos for just _having_ tattoos, Robbie for wearing eyeliner, Trevor because I don't even know why but he was scared to death of you, you hated Joe before I did, and you'll probably hate Dipper too, just because he's a wimpy little 13-year-old city-boy with a baby face and a squeaky puberty voice!"

Dan set his jaw.

"He's a what?!" Her 8-year-old brother (who was about Dipper's size) popped around the corner, and asked loud enough for the whole cabin to hear. "You're dating a BABY?!"

"Haw haw!" Her 11-year-old brother called from the bathroom.

"You sure know how ta pick 'em, sis!" Her 14-year-old brother came walking up behind her and reached for the last of her sausage.

"Ya _SEE_ why I don't tell you guys things?!" She jammed her fork into the table between his fingers, halting his approach toward the meat.

"Oh, you did _not_ just pull a Bishop on me." He squinted at the fork.

"And you did _not_ just try to take my food."

"LOOK, WENDY-" Dan started.

" _What_." She left the fork in the table straddling his fingers, and crossed her arms.

"WELL…" He caught his tongue, then suddenly reared up and roared at the other kids. "WHAT'RE YOU ALL GAWKING AT? YA READY TO GO YET?"

"Oh yeah!" The eldest rushed out of the kitchen in the direction of his room. "I'll get the life vests!"

"And I'll get the nets!" Her youngest brother yelled, and darted up the ladder toward the loft.

"And I'll grab the boxing gloves!" The middle one stumbled out of the bathroom with his pants around his ankles. "Won't be no survivors!"

Once he and Wendy were alone again in the kitchen, Dan turned back to her.

"Y'KNOW WENDY…"

"Dad, you're always trying to butt into my life! You always have some advice or something to give, and you're always yelling that advice, and making all these little annoyed grunts and growls whenever I do anything on my own! 'You need to get a job!' 'You need to be more responsible!' 'You need to stop hanging out with jerks!' 'You need to do more sports!' But _I_ think I'm _fine_! I think my life isn't super terrible, and I think it's actually… Like… I think I'm turning out okay… I think it's all going well… I think… I think… I think if you left me alone, I could know what I'm doing… I could figure it out… I dunno."

Dan frowned. "IS THAT HOW I ACT?"

"Well… Yeah, sometimes, I guess. I dunno."

"…WELL I _DO_ MEAN IT. I'M NOT TRYIN' TA BE MEAN, BUT I MEAN ALL I SAY."

"Yeah. I know."

The table was silent for a moment, while they both thought about things.

"LISTEN, WENDY… I DON'T HAVE A PROBLEM WITH YER DATING. I MEAN… YER OLD ENOUGH… AND… UH… THIS KID SEEMS LIKE A DECENT KID FROM WHAT I'VE HEARD."

"Yeah, I _know_." Wendy grunted. "He's the _best_. Like I been _saying_."

"GREAT!"

"Great!"

"...ALRIGHT, SO WHY IN BLAZES ARE YOU SO UPSET, HUH?!"

"Because…!" Wendy rubbed her face through her hands. "Because… No, it's not the date. The date's okay. The date's fine. The date's _great_ …! Oh, heck, the date doesn't even matter… It's not about the date."

"WELL THEN WHAT'S IT ABOUT?"

She glared at him.

"I AIN'T TRYIN' TA BUTT IN, I JUST WANNA KNOW HOW THE HECK I CAN HELP! I JUST WANNA KNOW MY LITTLE GIRL'S OKAY, OKAY?!"

She set her jaw. "…It's a secret."

He glared back at her for a few seconds more.

He hated this. He hated when things were needlessly cryptic. He hated when people were mysterious or vague. He hated when he couldn't understand things that had every right to be simple. He hated when there was nothing concrete he could do to _fix_ things. But most of all, he hated seeing his own daughter suffer. He _hated_ this. But if she didn't want to talk, there wasn't much he could do. There wasn't _anything_ he could do.

He may as well leave. "WE'LL BE BACK BY FOUR." He grunted as he stood up from the table. "I'LL DRIVE YA BOTH TO THE DATE, AND I WON'T 'THROW A FUSS' OR RUIN ANYTHING… I'LL JUST BE THE DAD. JUST THE DAD."

"Ugh… Alright."

"ALRIGHT."

He made for the door, buckling up his suspenders as he did.

"Wait…" Wendy mumbled behind him. He turned around to see her standing now too. "Uh… Hey… How soon are you leaving?"

"ROUND 'BOUT NOW."

"…Do you think you could give me a lift? On your way to fishing? Just… Drop me off somewhere?"

"WHERE YA NEED TA GO?"

"Uh…" She hesitantly started for her room, as she shoved the tape measure into her pocket. "…McGucket manor first, I think… Then there's a place up in the hills. I just… I think I need to do something… Lemme grab some stuff first."

"…ALRIGHT."

"Right."

Ten minutes later, Wendy threw a big, bulging duffle bag into the back of the truck, in next to the fishing supplies. Dan cast a curious glance back at it as he started the engine.

Fifteen minutes after that, they pulled up front of McGucket Manor. Wendy shouldered the bag again, and disappear through the screen door.

* * *

"DERN-TOOTIN' CLOD-HOPPIN' BREECHES-BENDIN' BASKET BRISTLES! I reckon I can holler me up a satellite uplink to wrangle 'er the telemetry past the ionosphere, and from there it ain't nothin' but a hop, skip an' a 20-minute prograde impulse to skedaddle 'er into lunar orbit!"

"Yes." Ford agreed. "But-"

"C'mere! We need to start a-fiddly-jinkerin'!"

Needless to say, McGucket quite liked the plan. He half-dragged Ford up an ornate flight of stairs, off toward the mansion's design and fabrication wing, while Dipper and Mabel followed behind at a more leisurely pace.

"Well, he seems to like it." Mabel stated the obvious. "But you know, before we launch it, you and Wendy should _totally_ go on a date in that thing! Like, fly it to the beach or something! As a test flight for both the moon mission _and_ for your heavenly love affair!"

"Okay, _look Mabel._ " Dipper spun on her. "First of all, Wendy and I aren't 'in love'. 'In love' is for creeps, old-timey heroes, and song writers. And second, I think you're seriously underappreciating the inherent dangers of nuclear… Uh… Uh…"

A far-away sort of look crossed his face, and his voice tapered off as he stared over her shoulder down the hall.

"Nuclear what? Nuclear _bonding_? Hyuk hyuk!"

"Yeah, uh… Uh… Bonding" Dipper stared.

"Huh? What's with you?" Mabel turned around to follow his gaze, and saw the source of his distraction: Wendy herself was in the hall. She must have just come up the stairs from the lobby just a few minutes behind them, and was walking the other direction. She rounded a corner out of sight without noticing them. "Oh, _I_ see…." Mabel smiled. "And to think that _you_ just had the audacity to tell me you're _not_ mindlessly head-over-heels in love with her."

"Huh… So she's here too…" Dipper's absentmindedly shuffled his feet. "She looks like she could use help carrying that bag. It looks heavy."

"Ooooh, yeah, I bet she's just _waiting_ for some strapping young man to walk up and help her with it." Mabel stifled a laugh.

"Uh… Wait, what did you say?"

Mabel put a hand on her brother's shoulder. "I said that you are _clearly_ enamored. _Go to her._ "

"Huh? Uh… Okay, might as well, I suppose." He began walking down the hallway after her, obviously putting in an effort to keep it calm, chill, and slow.

 _They grow up so fast._ Mabel chuckled to herself, then decided to follow Stan and Ford to wherever they'd ended up.

When she found them, the laboratory was in pandemonium.

McGucket was quite engrossed with scrawling notes, graphs, and computations over papers, notebooks, and the wall, while his handwriting suffered from an energetic jig his legs were dancing. An incomprehensible amalgamation of redneck slurs and highly sophisticated technobabble poured from his mouth, and Ford seemed just as lost as Mabel trying to keep up with any of it.

"But…! Fiddleford, wait! Hold on! So you really don't think automatic correction for errors in the telemetry network will be a problem?"

"'Problem'? By me granny's buried bonnet, there's loads a' problems, problems through the whole plan! Just like old times, wouldn't ya say? Why, my pal Ernie said we'd NEVER perfect a self-sustaining transuniversal polydimensional metavortex, but you and I had that thing purrin' in 10 months flat, didn't we?"

"No! I mean yes, but…! I mean the whole project, it's not _feasible_! I don't think we can actually launch a _lunar mission_ within any sort of reasonable timeframe, and considering the rather limited resources at our disposal-"

"Aw, shut yer yaps an' bar the door! This's gotta be the best darn-tootin' project what ever come across me desk! If ye woulda' told me a year ago that I'd be jury-rigging the autonomous launch of an extrateralien spaceship for the good of mankind, I woulda fed ya ta the beavers!"

"Well… If you say so, I suppose. But what about internal space? It isn't a large vehicle, and I'd like to know how we'd-"

"Why, I'd tell ya the same think I told my pappy as a young'n! When we's was trying to figure how ta fit all our cows in the house after the barn blew down, I told him we'd have loads of room if'n we just magnetized 'em to the ceiling!"

" _What._ "

"Here!" McGucket pushed a calculator and a pencil into Ford's hands, and gave him an old scrap of cardboard to write on. " _You_ hornswaggle up a differential model for the gravitational thruster dipole so's we can get 'er flying in a straight line, and _I'll_ get to sketchin' on a retracting stasis harness fer the critters! We can patch up some of the tanks from yer ol' bunker, eh?"

"Umm…" Ford looked down at the cardboard. "You mean, like, right now?"

"Oh, calm down, ya sissy! I already pulled the numbers on power efficiency and gyroscopic tolerance yersterevenin'! It's right over there on the 'puter!"

"All right… Uh…" Ford turned toward the computer.

"No, not _that_ one! Use the _super_ 'puter, silly!"

"Oh…" Ford turned to behold the looming mass of McGucket's _super_ computer. "Right… Of course… The _super_ computer…" He scratched his head and turned back to Mabel. "Well." He said. "Uh… McGucket seems to think that… Umm…"

"He thinks we can do it?" Mabel asked hopefully.

McGucket yelped and slapped his knee. "DO IT?! IT'S TOO HORN-SWAGGLIN' COOL TA _NOT_ DO! EE-HEE-HEE-HAW-HAW!" He spat, evoking a loud ring from a spittoon by his desk.

"Yes." Ford nodded. "Yes, he thinks we can do it. Umm… Daresay, I believe he's getting into one of his _moods_. Looks like we'll be busy at this awhile… Alright, you and Mason try not to get into any trouble while I'm busy. I'll be here if you need me."

"Alright!"

She skipped out of the room, and ran almost straight into her brother again.

"Woah, hey Dipstick! Looks like we're go for launch! Where's Wendy? Did you talk to her about names for kids yet? I was thinking either 'Tyrone' or-"

"Mabel, SHH!" Dipper waved for her to be quiet, and glanced over his shoulder. "Hey." He started, in a low voice. "Did McGucket ever build a… _Death ray_ that you know of?"

"Uh…" Mabel _did_ know of a death ray… But they'd only ever used it a few days from now though, after Dipper died… "Uh… No!" Mabel smiled as innocently as possible.

"Yeah, I know, I've never heard of the weapon either…" Dipper scratched his head and began to mutter to himself under his breath. "So how did _Wendy_ know about it then…? And why did she just walk into a dark room, find it in an unlabeled box, stuff it in a bag, and walk back out without taking the instruction manual? What's she doing with it, and where's she going…? It doesn't make any sense… Should I talk to her? Should I help? _What doesn't she want me to know, and why_ …?"

"HA HA! I don't know!" Mabel's heart began to beat nervously. "I bet you're just imagining stuff! I personally find it _highly_ unlikely that McGucket would build an ultra-powerful death ray in secret for the express purpose of killing robots. Naturally I would have no reason to lie about something like that; _you're_ the one acting suspicious!"

He shot her a sharp glance. "Also, it occurs to me that you never _did_ explain where you found Juan." He nodded to the creature tucked into her sweater like a kangaroo pouch. "Or how he disappeared. Or at least why it wouldn't be an issue anymore…"

"Oh, psh, yeah, uh… Uh… I guess he just inexplicably found his way up to our room again…" Mabel shrugged. "And… Uh… I think his disappearing was just… You know, just one of those things? Like, things happen, and maybe they have a reason, or maybe they don't, and maybe they used to have one reason but now the reason is different, but all you can really do is take them for what they are and deal with the consequences… You know, like taxes!"

"Seriously? _That's_ what you're going with?"

"MIND-WIPE!" She mind-wiped him.

He peeled it off his face in annoyance. "This is a _baby_ wipe."

"Yeah, but it's still funny though."

He held her eye for a minute. "If he asks, tell Ford I've gone ghost-hunting."

And then he turned and sprinted away.

* * *

Dan's daughter came back out of the mansion in a few minutes. Her duffle bag looked considerably bigger and heavier now as she wordlessly tossed it in the load bed and climbed back into the cab. They briefly consulted a map for their next destination, then pulled out of the lot.

Half an hour later, they came to a stop near the end of a narrow logging road.

"Are we there yet?" The youngest brother whined.

"Heeey, this isn't the lake!" The oldest brother observed.

"I wanna wrassle some fish!" The middle brother explained.

"THIS THE PLACE?" Dan asked.

"Yeah." Wendy opened the door and stepped down. "Close enough."

She stumbled a little under the weight of the duffle bag. As it tilted, Dan caught a glimpse of her makeshift armor through a gap in the zipper. Suddenly wary, he glanced about the trees. "WENDY…" He frowned, and lowered his voice. "IS THIS THE _ROBOT_ PLACE?"

She adjusted the shoulder strap to sit a little tighter. "It's close enough. Thanks for the ride." She finally got the bag balanced comfortably on her shoulder, then she pushed the door closed, and started off into the trees.

"WENDY, WH-"

"I'll be fine, dad." She said over her shoulder, and never stopped walking. "It's fine."

He jumped out of the truck and stomped after her. "WENDY!" He bellowed. "I DON'T GIVE A FLYING FART IF IT'S MY BUSINESS OR NOT, BUT YOU NEED TO TELL ME WHAT'S GOING ON!"

As soon as Dan reached her, she spun around, grabbed his hand, flicked out a knife, and pricked him before he could react. "OW!" He thundered, and drew his hand back. "WHAT?!"

They both stood there looking at the drop of red oozing from his finger.

"That was just to make sure you're human." Wendy said (as if that were any explanation at all). "Sorry… Dad. Sorry. Uh… Do you trust me?"

"I…" He looked from her, to his hand, to the bag, to the truck, to the forest, and for a difficult moment, he wasn't even sure. "WELL… WELL!" He grunted. "WELL I DO, BUT I'M STILL YER FATHER, AND YER STILL MY GIRL… AND… AND WHAT…?"

"…Then could you let me just go, dad? Just let me do something on my own. It's kind of private, and kind of important, and I just really don't… I dunno. Just could you please just trust me?"

He held her eye for a minute. "UH… OKAY… OKAY, I TRUST YA… I JUST… HMM ARIGHT."

"…Also I'm _sorry._ " Wendy said. "I'm sorry I yelled at you, dad, and I'm sorry I pricked you just now. I'm sorry. I… I got myself into a big stupid mess, and I'm sorry if it's causing you trouble… And… When… _When I'm not there tonight_ … Would you tell Dipper I'm sorry? I'm really sorry. Because he deserves one heck of a lot better than all this… And I never meant to break his heart."

"WAIT… SO YER NOT GOING TO THE DATE?"

"…It's… Not looking that way."

"…HMM."

"It'll all be better." Wendy promised. "Tell him it'll all be better, and that he won't have a thing to worry about… Neither will you, or Mabel, or anybody else… Soon enough, nobody will."

"WHAT…?"

"Just… Just tell him that. Tell him it's nothing personal… And if he wonders where I am and needs to know… Tell him there's a note on my desk that I want him to read."

"… _HIM_? WHAT ABOUT _ME_? YOU WRITE ANYTHING FOR _ME_?"

"Do you trust me?"

"STOP ASKING THAT!"

" _Because I promise it'll all be fine!_ " She told him. "I promise that somehow it'll all be okay in the end. And nothing can change that! …I _promise_!"

"WELL… OKAY…"

"Okay."

"OKAY."

"Bye dad." And she started back into the trees; one hand on the duffle bag, one hand in her right pocket. Dan watched until she disappeared from view beyond the trunks and the bushes and the rocks. Until she was gone for good.

A minute or two later, he eased back into the cab.

"Dad, where's she going?"

He hesitated for a moment, trying piece that very thing together himself. "WELL." He finally started. "WELL SON… UH… I AIN'T SURE…. I GUESS SOMETIMES YA JUST GET TIRED OF LIVING UNDER SOMEONE ELSE. SOMETIMES YA GET A FEELIN' THAT YA HAFTA GO OFF AND… DISCOVER YERSELF. GOTTA MAKE YER OWN DECISIONS, GO OFF AND DO THE THINGS THAT'RE IMPORTANT TA YOU ALONE… MAN'S GOTTA GO OUT AND BECOME HIS OWN MAN. FIND 'IMSELF."

"But she's not a man, dad. She's a girl."

Dan's voice rose to an absolutely thundering volume. "AND THAT'S WHY I HAVE NO FRIGGIN CLUE WHAT IN PAUL BUNYAN'S NAME SHE'S DOIN'!" He roared, as he slammed a fist against the steering wheel. "HOW'M I SUPPOSED TO KNOW HOW GIRL BRAINS WORK?! I NEVER KNEW WHAT WENT ON INSIDE YER _MOTHER_ , AND I LIVED WITH _'ER_ FOR NINETEEN YEARS, REST 'ER SOUL! I DUNNO WHAT WENDY'S DOIN! TRYIN' TA KILL 'ERSELF OR SOMEONE ELSE BY THE LOOKS OF IT! I DON'T…! RRRRGH! AAAAARGH!" He punched the steering wheel again. This time a piece of plastic broke off the dashboard and bounced off his forehead. "I DON'T KNOW WHAT TA DO!"

The boys looked at each other.

"We could go after her!" The oldest one said.

"Yeah, we could trap her in the fishing net!" The youngest one said.

"And I can hit her on the head if she tries to fight!" The middle one waved a heavy stick.

"NO…" Dan growled.

"Or we could just wrassle her! It might work if we all teamed up!"

"And I'll tickle her so she can't breathe!"

"No, pull her hair!"

"Yeah, her hair _is_ her weakness."

"I don't want to pull her hair! She starts fighting dirty when we do that!

"Last time she bit me!"

"SHUT UP!" Dan barked, and once again looked after her. And he made a decision of his own. "NO. NO, SHE KNOWS WHAT SHE'S DOING…" He said. "YEAH, SHE KNOWS _EXACTLY_ WHAT SHE'S DOIN'…"

"Well, what is she doing?"

"Yeah, what's in the bag?"

"Did she tell you why she's dating a baby?"

Dan put the truck in reverse, and began to back down the hill. "I DUNNO… BUT IT AIN'T NONE OF OUR BUSINESS ANYMORE… SHE'LL COME 'ROUND."

"But what if she doesn't?"

"…IT'LL ALL TURN OUT ALRIGHT."

"And if it doesn't?"

"…THEN WE GRAB THE GUNS AND THAT BOYFRIEND BABY, AND WE GO SAVE HER."

"Okay!"

* * *

 _It's nothing personal…_

 _It's nothing personal…_

That's what Wendy kept repeating to herself as she stood in the middle of the gap in the trees: the part where the soil was just ever-so-slightly too toxic for normal trees to grow, but with slightly too little metal content for the alien trees to really take root. A few feet to her left stood a particular tree trunk that her and Dipper had spray-painted the last time they were here: DANGER, KILLER ROBOTS BEYOND THIS POINT.

Wendy fitted on the last of her armor, and buckled the helmet into place across her chin. Then she reached into the bag, and removed the last piece of hardware: McGucket's death ray. He didn't exactly know she'd taken it, but that didn't make it stealing, did it? What's a little theft between friends, especially when she was gonna give it back? Yeah, borrowing. Just borrowing. Besides, it was nothing personal.

Nothing personal…

She began to flip switches and press buttons on the side of the weapon. Finally one of them powered it on, and another one calibrated it. She remembered which one ignited the pilot light, and pressed it just for a test. The barrel of the gun lit up bright pink, now ready to fire a beam that could annihilate anything in a second. Destroy armor, end life, remove any ability the target might have had to change the future or affect the lives of another. The robot lions could probably be immobilized in a single blast, and if not, it was semi-auto until it overheated. Anything of the least capability would be utterly decimated.

She turned it back off, and held the appropriate button at the ready.

And it was NOTHING personal.

It really, really wasn't, was it?

She pulled out the time machine.

 _I'm sorry Dipper._

 _It sure was fun while it lasted, and I KNOW it'll work out again._

 _But before something worse happens, to you or anyone else…_

 _I have to undo it all._


	30. Warpath

Wendy stood in the middle of the forest, looking at a particular tree trunk upon which she remembered spray painting: DANGER, KILLER ROBOTS BEYOND THIS POINT.

She pulled out the tape on her time machine. _A week and a half backward ought to do it._

The world dematerialized around her in a flash of blue light. It reconstituted itself in a week and a half less than no time at all, and she found herself standing in the exact same place. Only small cues; the shift of clouds in the sky, the change in wind direction, and the lack of any warning painted on the tree, gave any indication that she'd warped at all.

But here she was.

Before.

Before that fateful Saturday when they'd taken the saucer. Before the Friday when Dipper had taken her to Crash Site Omega. Before the Thursday when Juan's mom had attacked the Mystery Shack. Before the Wednesday when they'd discovered the Forest of Daggers. Before the Tuesday when they met the lion. Before the Monday when Dipper first came to her house. In fact, this was before the Sunday when the twins first arrived in Gravity Falls.

This.

This was the Friday when Wendy first found Juan. In fact, judging by the angle of the sun, this was the morning before she'd even done _that_.

This was before any of it.

She briefly consulted a map for the location of her target, and started walking into the trees.

She saw nothing on her journey. Nothing but the metal trees whose branches and jagged leaves casually scratched at her as she walked past. Nothing but the little robot pentapus-monkeys chattering high in the branches. Nothing but the nuts and sticks they spitefully threw at her as she walked past. Nothing but the uneven ground and strange sharp smells and the coldly shining mirror-flowers budding by a stream. Nothing but nature. Alien nature, alternative nature, dangerous and spiky nature, yet still beautiful and peaceful in its own way.

She moved quiet, and quick, and consulted the map frequently, and managed to dodge past the more treacherous obstacles they'd encountered on previous visits. Fortunately, she didn't run into any large predators.

Finally she broke through the edge of a small circular clearing, and stood looking at a crooked, dome-shaped rise in the forest floor, a little bigger than your everyday fighter jet.

 _This was the place._

 _If I destroy Betty and Barney's UFO and the power control coupling now, then we'll never reactivate the reactor in the main wreck. Thus never destroying the Forest of Daggers, attracting the attention of the Mother Shifter, or having to deal with any of this awful crap…_

 _It's the only way to be safe._

She thumbed a button on the plasma beam, and its pilot flame flashed to light. The overheat timer began to tick, and the weapon began to emit a low whine.

She stepped onto the top of the UFO, aimed the beam downward at where she remembered the airlock being, and gripped the handles tightly.

 _Wham._

When her ears stopped ringing and the billowing smoke cleared a little, she saw that the hatch was still intact, even if the underbrush had been burned away a little. So she fired again. This time the glass crinkled and cracked slightly, and a gap opened just a couple millimeters around the perimeter. The air was beginning to ripple in the heat, and it singed the hair on her arms.

 _Great! It's loose! Now I can probably get it open…_

 _SNAP._

Wendy froze at the sound.

And turned around.

Not thirty feet away, there stood an enormous robot lion. Looked to be of the male variety, judging by the lack of teets along its flanks (well, they're 'recharging ports' on robots, but same difference, right?) Its eyes were small and bright and red, and its claws were long and curved and razor sharp. Wendy couldn't tell if it was one of the same ones they fought (would fight?) in a week and a half, but it was quite an impressive specimen anyway.

But strangely, unlike all the others they'd ever seen, it wasn't attacking. Its mane of antennae were fanned out and scanning, as an Earthly creature would sniff, but it didn't look mad or aggressive or territorial, it just looked curious.

Wendy spread her feet and took a ready stance, pointing the beam at its head.

 _Hey, waitaminute._ She realized. _The robot lions are the whole reason Dipper and I discovered this forest. They're the only things here that are immediately dangerous to outsiders, and the only ones that have ever ventured beyond the ordinary grounds._

 _If I exterminate all you jerks now…_

 _That would undo not ONLY any encounter with the shifter, but ALSO our entire adventure. We would have never even know of this place. Never even suspected. There would have been no danger, nobody would ever have been hurt, and Dipper would never even have had the slightest chance of dying._

 _And since I have the tape on 'stable' mode, that means that past-me won't have any memories of how I changed things! I'll be able to… Move on. Forget about murder, and not have to deal with the guilt of all the things I never did…_

 _It'll all be okay._

Wendy squeezed the trigger.

 _Wham._

The lion spasmed violently and tried to leap sideways or escape, but the front half of its brain had already been melted to slag, eliminating its ability to reason or think. Like a headless chicken it staggered and lurched, then keeled over and collapsing on the forest floor after only a few seconds, twitching and struggling, already dead, as oily blood poured from the incandescent wound.

Wendy saw movement in her peripheral vision. She spun left to see a second lion, this one female, emerge from her hiding spot in the trees. But this one didn't attack either; instead, she fled. The motors in her joints and treads whirred with exertion as she set off through the trees to the West, away from Wendy and her dead mate.

Wendy fired another beam after her, but it went wide, and by that point she was out of range.

So the chase was on.

The plasma beam wasn't the easiest thing to carry while running. Since the shoulder strap and top-handle made it hang like a weed-eater or a chainsaw at her hip, it was always rubbing around and bumping against her legs. Wendy held it up close to her chest to be more comfortable.

In spite of the focus this situation ought to demand, Wendy's mind began to wander. _Well… This is it._ She mused to herself. _After today… The entire adventure never will have happened._

Ahead of her, the lioness leapt up over a massive fallen log. As Wendy approached the same point, she vaulted off a lower log onto the higher one, then slid down the other side. A razor bush gouged into her leg near the bottom, but she shook it off and limped on, ignoring the pain.

 _The time Dipper and I went out to capture a robot by setting a decoy and hiding up a tree._ Wendy recalled. _We had no clue how gigantic these things were, and brought nothing but a tiny little werewolf net to catch it. We made it out alive by the skin of our teeth, and had a good laugh… But if I do this, we never would've gotten to do that._

The lioness ducked through a hollow beneath another log, and Wendy followed without missing a beat. A drilling worm rumbled in annoyance as she passed its underground lair.

 _That night in the hospital. When Dipper and I promised to solve this mystery, and prevent anyone else from being hurt… Then we fell asleep in the hospital lobby, both wearing full armor… Then in the morning he took me to Crash Site Omega, and we told each other all our secrets… If I do this, we never would've shared all that._

The lioness was a creature designed to catch prey using short, powerful sprints. It didn't have the stamina for long distance running, and Wendy was steadily catching up.

 _That time Dipper and I were trapped underground, and swarms upon swarms of robot bugs were trying to eat us… Dipper panicked, but I calmed him down long enough for him to fire off the magnet gun and save us… Then he asked for a hug, so I hugged him. If I do this, he might never have conquered his fear. And I might never have hugged him._

The lioness stopped ahead of her, then suddenly ducked down and disappeared out of sight into the ground. When Wendy reached the same place, she saw the open mouth of a wide sort of tunnel, sloping down into the ground. She jumped down into the darkness without hesitation, thumbing on a headlamp on as she did.

 _That time the ghosts of Betty and Barney asked us to bring peace and finality to their own uncompleted life's work… We promised we would avenge their deaths by bringing an end to the shapeshifting monster that killed so many… And we promised to make the most of their legacy. We allowed their restless souls to find their peace, and if I do this… We never would have even KNOWN…_

The tunnel snaked on deeper into the Earth, branching off here and there, something like a fox's burrow. No sign of the lion yet.

 _That flight aboard the flying saucer. It seemed like we were gonna die, but then Dipper DID die. And I fought my way through time and space and fate to save him, and I pushed through sickness and torture and fear and exhaustion until I punched into the heart of an omnipotent enemy, and I brought him back… And by the end I knew beyond a doubt that it would all be alright, and… And… And I knew no matter what came next that I just wanted to have him by my side, for better or for worse, until the end of time… And then… And then he asked me on a date…_

Wendy's steps faltered.

 _And…_

She slowed down.

 _If I do this…_

She stopped.

 _None of that would have happened._

Her finger eased off the trigger of the gun.

 _No…_

 _It's right…_

She reached under her helmet and rubbed the tears from her eyes.

 _It was right. This is wrong._

 _This is wrong… I shouldn't do this. I… I should just forget it. Just go back home and get ready for that date… Let the past stay in the past, return to the present, and make the most of the future… It's time to leave the Forest of Daggers for the last time._

Clump, clump, clump… The sound of heavy, treaded footfalls.

Whirr… The sound of gears rumbling smoothly inside metallic joints.

Crinkle, clink… The sound of antennae brushing against the walls of the tunnel.

Shreeeee… The sound of saws spinning up to speed.

And Wendy found herself in the lion's den, surrounded on all sides.

* * *

"Okay, well, I think we've made enough progress for today…" Ford stepped out of McGucket's stuffy lab to find his great niece waiting in the Mansion's foyer, arms folded over a banister. "Ah, there you are. Where's Mason?" He asked. "I've got a few questions for him about the mechanical ecology…"

"Oh, he uh…" Mabel scratched her head. "He told me to tell you he's off ghost hunting."

"Hmm… Except I'm pretty sure he doesn't have any ghost-hunting supplies on him…" Ford put his hands on his hips. "So what's he _really_ doing?"

"Oh, uh… I don't know…" Mabel shrugged. "Probably just being hopelessly in love and incredibly paranoid at the same time…"

"Ah yes, well, what else is new?" Ford scoffed.

"I tried to catch up with him, but he was pretty quick and… Oh, what the heck, he'll be alright, won't he?"

"Of course he will."

"Yeah…" Mabel looked thoughtful for a moment. "Hey Great Uncle Ford?"

"What is it, my girl?"

"Have you ever talked to the Shapeshifter? I mean, since you came back from your 30 years out in ultra-space?"

"I believe the word you're looking for is 'hyperspace'." Ford smiled. "Although technically, it's called the 'multiverse'. 'Hyperspace' is merely the multi-dimension-high-permeability looping medium used to traverse from reality to reality… Uh… Wait, I'm sorry, what was your original question?"

"The shapeshifter."

"Oh yes. Right… Well, you kids locked the monster up safely last Summer, didn't you?"

"Well, yeah, but…"

"Then I'm not worried, I trust you did it properly. And the cryogenic containment systems will hold for many years yet. We built them to last, you know."

"That's, like, the exact _opposite_ of what I mean…" Mabel frowned. "I mean…"

"What?"

" _Biscuit Brown. Carrot Costume._ " Mabel said.

The color went out of Ford's face and his voice got quiet. "…Where did you hear that?" He hissed, glancing over his shoulder. " _When_?"

"…The future…" Mabel shrugged. "Uh… Some stuff happened, and then we used a time machine to keep them from happening, and then future-you told us to tell you _that_ , so… What does that mean?"

"Those…" Ford's eyes began to dart around with a strange intensity. "Are short, alliterative, easy-to-remember mnemonics, which serve as two of my five secret code phrases, for use in the eventuality that I ever had to send a warning to myself backward through time… The code phrases are ranked 'A' through 'E', for different levels of severity. 'Carrot Costume' is 'C' severity, meaning that a future-me believes somebody's _life_ will be in jeopardy. 'Biscuit Brown' is a 'B' severity, a warning that a future-me believes somebody's _soul_ will be in jeopardy… Obviously, the codes are just a sort of validation, with the assumption that whoever delivered them could provide more details…"

"I didn't understand anything of what you just said." Mabel informed him.

"Okay, uh… Whose life is in danger, Mabel? And whose soul?"

"Uh… Er… I guess Dipper's life." She answered. "And the Shapeshifter's soul."

Ford considered this for a moment, then nodded grimly. "Follow me. And explain on the way exactly what I need to do."

* * *

The nearest lion lunged, saws and hooks glittering in the light.

There was no time to get out the time machine, so instead Wendy fired the death ray.

As the light flashed from the weapon, it briefly illuminated the entire den. It was a small, low-ceilinged cavern, with a few branching tunnels to the sides, and a smaller hollow toward the back. Within the hollow, a large female lay on its side, with cubs latched to its recharge ports; must be a 'nursery' of some kind. Wendy herself was standing more toward the center of the den; the part cluttered with a mess of metal scraps and discarded bone-like scaffolds, from all the creatures and prey that had been brought here before. This must be the feeding area. Somewhat disquieting.

The light of the beam faded just as quickly, and the world returned to darkness. The lion that had been charging Wendy slumped over dead, from the hole burned up through the roof of its mouth.

By that time the next one was attacking, and Wendy had to dive out of the way. She dropped her headlamp in the roll, and as she came up, she fired at the first thing she saw.

Another lion, this one another male, took the blast in the side. Its antenna flared in pain as the hole began to spark and bleed, but it didn't seem to be a fatal injury. Must have missed its crucial components.

Wendy spun, aimed, and squeezed again, expecting another 'WHAM'.

But instead, all she got was a 'click'. And a little red blinking light on top of the weapon. And a little backlit screen flashing 'OVERHEAT WARNING!'.

 _Crap._

 _Crap!_

 _Crapcrapcrapcrapcrap!_

 _Stupid piece of JUNK!_

Wendy reached into her pocket for the time machine; at this point, it was her only escape route. But before she could pull the tape, a claw swipe from another lion took her directly in the chest. The worst of it was stopped by her armor, but it knocked the wind out of her and she found herself on her back, with the burning hot weapon on top of her. As she hurriedly pushed it off, she realized she'd dropped the time machine somewhere in the darkness.

 _Crap!_

But before the day could end, with either a victory or an unceremonious shredding, the fight took a different turn entirely.

A shape leapt out of the darkness.

Not a robotic shape though, not a scary shape, not a big, strong, mighty shape. This was a small and scrawny shape, which landed on the back of the nearest lion. The creature began to rear up at the invasion to its personal space, but then a flash of light erupted above it. The air fizzled with the sound of arcing electricity, and the lion collapsed, eyes darkened.

 _That was a magnet gun pulse._ Wendy blinked. _I didn't bring a magnet gun._

The small shape leapt again. There was another pulse, and another lion collapsed. The others took a step back.

And Wendy found herself looking up at the short silhouette standing over her. And she saw a small hand, a human hand, reach down toward her to help her up. Judging by a few scratches on the hand and rough tears in the shirt, he'd come all the way here with only partial armor. And judging by how heavily he was breathing, he'd ran most of the way.

Their eyes met, and she just stared for a few seconds, feeling confused and relieved and guilty and sweaty all at the same time.

"Hi Wendy."

"…Hey… Hey dude."

She took his hand.

He pulled her to her feet, pressed a second magnet gun into her grasp, and turned around. She tossed aside the plasma beam as she turned around too. They found themselves back to back, weapons raised and ready, as the creatures circled in closer. Aiming was almost unnecessary at this range, but she took a deep breath to steady her hands anyway. Behind her, she heard Dipper stutter.

"S-so what's the plan here? Kill them all?"

"No… No, I mean, it _was_ , but… I was wrong… Dipper, I'm sorry."

"What's the _plan_?" He repeated more urgently.

"…Just to get out alive."

"Good plan."

They fired, they aimed, they fired, they aimed again. The lights flashed, the electricity crackled, and two by two the creatures collapsed.

In another reality that never happened, this same boy had immobilized one of these creatures with nothing but an axe and some luck. In that same reality, this same girl had taken on a time-traveling shapeshifter with the same weapons, and emerged with similar results.

Now that both of them were working together, adequately armed and prepared, neutralizing an entire clan of murderous machines was… Trivially easy.

In less than a minute, they found themselves standing in the middle of a crowd of almost a dozen dead or unconscious beasts. The magnet gun was warm in Wendy's hands, and its charge meter was down below halfway. Dipper passed her a spare pack of batteries.

Both their eyes landed on the last robot that remained standing; the medium-large female that had been suckling the young. This one had seen the fate of its brethren, and was at least smart enough to fear. Instead of attacking, it picked one of the juveniles off the floor with its hooks, and turned to escape up the nearest tunnel.

Wendy leveled her gun and almost shot her backside, but then thought better of the action, and worse of herself for considering it.

The noise of its scampering footfalls faded into the distance, and the burrow was once again silent.

Wendy could hear her heart beating. Heck, she thought she could hear _his_ heart beating. She sighed, and ran a hand through her hair, racking her brain to try to figure out how to begin to explain all this. _He needs to know. I need to tell him. But how do I do that? How do I even start…?_

"…T-thanks." She finally managed instead. "The… That stupid gun overheated."

"Yeah…" He gasped for breath. "It's… Uh… Uh, it's hardcoded with a 3-minute cooldown period between volleys…" He fished a fat little pamphlet out of his vest, and tossed it to her. "You left the instruction manual back at McGucket's and I kinda read it on the way. Uh… Yeah."

"3 minutes, huh?"

"Sucks, right?"

"Yeah… I guess the rest of these guys will probably reboot before it's done."

"I was thinking the same thing. Do you want to set up an ambush at the top of the tunnel?"

"No… No, it's fine, it's all fine… Let's just go…"

"Well… You were right in the middle of blowing everything up! I mean… We still could, i-i-it would just be a little strategy…"

"No…" She picked the death ray off the ground, slung it around her shoulder, then located the time machine and stuffed it in her pocket. "No, I… I was wrong." She said. "Let's just… Just get the heck out of here…"

He nodded, and made to leave. She started to follow him, but came up short when he suddenly stopped, and turned back around to face her. She met his eye. "…Aren't you curious if I'm a shapeshifter?" His voice had an edge to it.

She blinked.

Well, he had the instruction manual, and had a few red scratches, and was acting just like he always does… And heck, he'd just saved her _life_ , when anyone else, even any human, doubtlessly would have hesitated. Of _course_ he was the real Dipper… Wasn't he?

But the thought had occurred to her. _I mean, come on! It doesn't make any sense for Dipper to be here and now! How did he get here? How did he know I'd be here? How is he last week right now? What if he saved my life just to earn my trust? What if… What if, what if…_ She racked her brain, knowing that any lapse in paranoia, any smallest mistake, any trust at all, could be fatally dangerous. She felt her hand subconsciously moving toward her axe.

 _But…_

 _But he never tried to prove himself. He never said his name, or gave proof, or made a big show of being Dipper, or grilled me for info… He just reminded me to be more careful. Which means he's just as smart and paranoid as he should be… But he's innocent._ "Uh… If you're really you…" Even as she spoke, she wished she hadn't, for she knew he was really him. "Then you remember how to tell me…"

"Yeah." He sighed. "Uh… My real name is Mason Ferdinand Pines…" He made the sign of zipping and locking his lips.

"I know." She sighed.

"I… Uh… I got a week and a half ago by promising to leave a time machine in a rotten stump the next time I got one…" He pulled a tape measure out of his pocket for her to inspect. It was the exact same one as hers. "And when I looked in the stump, this one was in there… So the way I reason it out, I guess I'll convince you to leave yours there, huh…?"

"Good time-thinking…"

"Okay, well, I mean, if you don't believe I'm human, there's lots of sharp things around here. I can… Bleed red or…"

"No." Wendy waved a hand in apology. "No. No, no man, it's fine… I'm sorry. You're you, I'm just… I… Sorry. I guess it's all gone to my head-"

"No." He decided out loud. "No, I'm gonna bleed!" He walked over to the wall of the tunnel, where a small tuft of razor-grass was growing. "Because I need you to know it's really me!"

"Wait, dude, no it's fine-!"

He closed his left fist around the grass, and gritted his teeth before pulling.

"Dude, please!" She reached out to stop him.

Blood flowed from a gash in his palm. Red blood, whose stark color almost seemed to glow under the glare of his flashlight.

He spun back toward her, and pointed a bloody finger to his chest. "I'M the real Dipper!" His voice cracked despite its sternness, though she couldn't tell if it was from pain or anger or being on the verge of tears. "I AM!" He repeated, with a panicked squeal. "I don't know _why_ you would think I'm a shapeshifter, but if you needed your own _dad_ to bleed before you'd believe _him_ , then _I'm_ not taking the chance! You've got to KNOW for good and real that I'm ME! And I am! SEE! LOOK! I AM!" He held up his red palm. Red blood. Human blood. Dipper's blood.

Wendy had seen him this angry only rarely. It was never a pretty sight, but it was always directed at someone else. Stan or Robbie most often, Mabel or Soos once or twice, and of course at the bad guys, abominations like Bill which deserved every ounce.

But he'd never been angry at her; not like this. And it hurt. She closed her eyes to keep back tears.

"I'm your friend!" He continued, borderline hysterical. "I look out for you! I care about you! I followed you across town in the back of your dad's truck, across the forest on foot, HECK, I even followed you _backward in time_ and _right into the lions' den_ , all because I was WORRIED about you! I walked miles for you! I bled for you! I fought for you! I'll do anything for you! I'll ALWAYS be there for you…! Why don't you _trust_ me…?"

"I…" Wendy willed herself to speak. "I do trust you…! I… I respect you more than anyone, I-"

"Well then why stand me up? When I asked for a date, you said 'yes'! Why didn't you say 'no' if you meant 'no'?"

"Wait! No! That was _never_ -"

"Look, I get it! I mean that, I get it! I'm too young for you, and too short, and I always kind of knew it, so it's no big deal… I… No… No it IS A BIG DEAL! _It HURTS, Wendy! I fell head over heels for you AGAIN and I actually DID honestly believe you liked me, and then you led me on, and now…!_ But! But it hurts even more that you don't trust me! Why not tell me you had a time machine this whole entire time? Why didn't you bring _me_ along when you decided to retro-proactively _exterminate_ an entire _race_? What does Mable know that I don't? Why does she know? Why is she acting weird? Why will nobody tell me what happened?!"

"I didn't think!" She told him. Her sight was getting blurry. "…I'm sorry! Dipper, I'm sorry! But would you just let me TALK?!"

Just as fast as it appeared, his temper burned itself out. He fell silent, and gave a small nod.

"I'm _sorry._ " She repeated. "What happened…" She willed herself to speak. "What happened is you died."

Dipper choked back tears, and shook his head. His eyes fell. " _So it's true_."

Wendy found herself crying too. In her peripheral vision, one of the unconscious lions began to twitch. "L-let's go." She repeated, and shrugged toward the tunnel.

He nodded timidly, and turned to lead the way.

This was the first time he'd seen Wendy… Weak. He'd seen her cry once when she was really mad, and he'd seen her lose fights and tempers from time to time, but this was different. This was her breaking down on the inside, melting and collapsing. This was her filled with guilt and confusion and pain to the point where _he_ , wimpy little Dipper, could break her, with nothing but the force of his words. _But Wendy's never weak… What happened? Did I do that? How did I do that? Why did I do that? I didn't mean to…_

They made it back up into the glaring sun within a minute, then spent another minute walking in a random direction, just to find a safe place to rest. Before long, they happened upon a hollow metal log lying in a ditch where a great tree must once have stood. As they ducked inside, they were reminded of the very first time they'd visited the Forest of Daggers; they'd stopped for lunch inside a log much like this one.

This log was a little smaller than that one though. Between the rusty walls, a mossy tangle, and Wendy's butt, there was barely room for his own butt. Kinda cozy, kinda prickly, and all the bad kinds of awkward.

Wendy cast one last look across the landscape beyond the log. When she was sure they hadn't been followed, she fished out a water bottle, and told him to hold out his hand. He did, and she washed his wound, then bound it as tightly and well as she could with a bandage-sized strip she tore from her shirt. It would hold until they got back to civilization.

But they didn't feel like walking. They barely even felt like talking. So they just leaned back against the log's curved wall, and sat there in dull and stunned silence, waiting for things to be okay again.

Forgiveness would be great. Healing would be great. Happiness and understanding and trust would all be great, If only they could find the words to say.

Without those words, the silence stretched on, and they were left listening to the distant sounds of nature: the metallic hammering of robot woodpeckers, the buzzing of strange robot birds, and the quiet clicking and scuffling of big black robot bugs that creeped and crawled through the wood around them.

All was peaceful.

Finally Wendy couldn't stand it anymore, and decided she had to say _something._

"My middle name is Blerble!" She cried. "And I'm sorry!"

"I know that, and I'm sorry too!" Dipper blurted. "I didn't mean any of that! I know you're still my best friend and stuff!"

"I'm sorry!" Wendy said. "I am SO, SO, _SO_ sorry! I didn't think, and I was scared, and I didn't know how to tell you, and I committed murder after she raped my brain and it was terrible, and do you want to hear the story?"

Dipper swallowed, and wiped away his tears, and nodded. "Y-y-yes. Yes please."

The words came easier from there.

* * *

"Mabel, you stay here." Ford adjusted a few weapons in his belt as he prepared to enter the airlock.

"Why?"

He passed her a ray gun. "To make sure it's _me_ that comes back out. Keep an eye on the security cameras and the cryogenics controls, notify me of any and all malfunctions… That sort of thing. Keep your walkie-talkie on."

"Okay."

"Stanley, you say with her." Ford looked at his brother.

"What, hey…?" Stanley twirled a baseball bat. It had a multitude of nails pounded through it, so that it looked more like a mace than any type of bat. "Why'd ya bring me along if you weren't gonna bring me all the way?"

"Just as insurance…" Ford looked at the airlock, and nervously drummed his fingers against his legs. "This is… This is an old mistake, but it's _my_ mistake… And… And I think it'd be better if I went in alone."

"Aww, c'mon poindexter! I can help! Everyone needs a wingman, right?"

"…Stanley… Suppose…" Ford chewed his lips, searching for an easier metaphor. "Okay, imagine for a moment that you had a chance to talk to Carla McCorckle again… A chance to make things right with her, maybe apologize… Would you want _me_ there, or would you want your privacy?"

"Wait, you have an ex-girlfriend frozen down here?" Stanley listened to the wrong half of the metaphor. "Bros don't let bros do that, bro. This just became an intervention."

"What? No! …But… But I hear the monster is quite a lot worse than I ever would have imagined… And moreover I hear it might be a real person, a…" He glanced at Mabel. "A living… Feeling soul… And I reason… I reason that it might be my fault that… So I'd like a chance to finally, honestly talk…"

"That sure sounds a _loooot_ like an ex-girlfriend."

" _STOP_ , Stanley…!" Ford snapped. "It's not a 'she'… Or… Or an 'it'… He's a 'he'… And… And everything that happened to him was my fault… Just… Just wait out here until this is done, alright?"

"…Okay."

* * *

"-and then we sort of all said goodbye, Ford gave us some time-code-phrases, and Mabel and I time-jumped back… Anyway, yeah. You know the rest." Wendy shrugged. "…I'm sorry I didn't tell you, I just…" She barely even knew what the excuse was herself. "I honestly thought that if I could undo everything real fast, get in and out, sweep everything under the rug… I guess I just thought it would be best. We'd be able to start over at the beginning of a new week with no memory. You'd be alive, we'd both be happy, and safe, and… And you wouldn't have a date with a murderer."

Dipper twitched nervously, and mulled over that for a few seconds. "Stop saying 'murder'." He finally said. "It's not murder."

"But it is though…"

"But it isn't! She tried to kill you first! And when somebody tries to kill you, you just kill 'em right back! …Look, nobody blames you for what you did. I know it really sucked and everything, but as far as anybody else can see, you're _not_ a murderer, you're a _hero_!"

"Then you're all _wrong_!" Wendy insisted. "I didn't _have_ to kill her! And even if I did have to, I didn't have to _mash_ her to death _over and over_ and then leave her to bleed out, I coulda… I… I just…" Wendy looked down at her own two hands, and remembering them as they had been: bruised and broken in the cold wet darkness, covered in blood. "You don't know how it _was_!"

"W-w-w-well, I know you did something hard!" Dipper insisted. "I know you did something extremely hard, to someone or some _thing_ that deserved it more than anyone, and for all the right reasons! And it's not because you're evil or violent; soldiers and cops and cowboys have been killing and getting killed since the dawn of time, and _will_ until the _end_ of time, because sometimes that's what it _means_ to take a stand! You did it because you're _tough_ , and when it needed to be done, you did it, and… You…" His voice got quiet. "…You're a _warrior_ , Wendy. And the toughest, coolest, most… Most strong person I've ever even heard of… And if I were in your place, if… If you'd died, I only wish that I would have the guts to do the same."

She shook her head. "Don't wish that."

"Wendy, it's okay."

"It's not okay."

"It _is_."

"I'm sorry."

"Wendy, I don't… Look, I think the only part that really matters is that you saved my life. And that's, just… I don't know what to say. _Thanks_."

"Yeah… Yeah, hey, no biggie, right?" She shrugged. "I mean… I love you a lot. I mean…" Her voice seemed to suddenly skip a beat. "I-I-I mean we all love. You. W-w-we all respect you, and you mean a lot to all of us, and we really… Appreciate… Stuff. In you. And stuff. And I dunno, y'know, I bet Soos woulda done the same thing if he had the chance; Pterodactyl bros and all that… Same as Stan or Ford or Mabel or anybody… We all really… What are friends for, huh? And besides. You died defending me. So it's literally the least I could do."

"Thanks."

"No biggie."

"Seriously, thanks… It means more than I can say."

"It's no biggie, just like I been _saying_. Stop thanking me."

There was silence for a moment.

"Thanks anyway."

"Stoooooop."

* * *

He was a knight.

A valiant, brave knight, clad in shining armor, with a thick oaken shield grasped in his left hand, and a long, pointed lance propped in his right, and a broadsword in its scabbard at his hip. The horse between his legs snorted and panted with exertion, as it galloped up the trail toward the mountain. There was a cave up there, the villagers had said; a cave where lurked a great, monstrous dragon; an evil worm clad in scales as tough as armor, and spewing a great, roaring fire from its lungs.

The knight had accepted their quest to slay it; to save the people and their livestock from its continued mongering, so that their farms could prosper, and families could sleep in peace. But more than that, his quest was personal: you see, during the beast's last raid of the castle, it had ensnared the princess, (the knight's betrothed,) and taken her with the rest of its spoils. He had to save her.

(Just to be clear, these were the olden days before they invented clichés, so the knight remained blissfully ignorant of how corny this all sounded.)

Not that it mattered really. No sooner had his horse rounded the final bend, but the Dragon swooped down from the cliffs directly above. Its claws were silent on the rocks, its wings quietly whipped through the air, and the first noise it made was the roaring of its flames. Thus, the brave knight had less than a second and a half of warning before his incineration, not even enough time to raise his shield.

The fair maiden greeted the dragon at the entrance to his lair. "You can't win, you know." She claimed once more. "My true love is a warrior of surpassing skill. He will come for me soon, and he will defeat you, and he will save me."

"No…" The dragon muttered, as he opened his mouth and dropped the whole pile at the princess's feet: a charred mound of horse flesh, tarnished iron, and the black and red shape of a man. "No, I'm afraid he already came… And he's already gone…"

The princess gasped when she saw the shape, and put her hand over her mouth.

And then the dragon wondered why he'd done that. The knight had been a good man. His quest had been noble, honest, pure, done in love and not in hate… _I'm the villain._ The dragon realized. _He was good, and I am evil. Sure the brave knight didn't kill me, but one day somebody will… And then I'll stand before God, without an excuse or a plea…_

 _When did I become who I am?_

 _Why did I do the things I did?_

 _Who am I?_

And the dragon felt some kind of pain, from nowhere at all but also everywhere. It made him want to curl up on himself and hide his face, but instead he just pleaded "Forgive me!"

"You are who you choose to be." The princess said.

And now the dragon felt something even stranger: there was a small drop of water, spilling from the corner of his eye. He felt it roll down his scales. He watched it drop from his chin to the floor; a tiny glittering orb hovering in the air for a moment before splattering on the floor, and it made the stones wet.

It had been the first teardrop he had ever shed.

And then, the Shapeshifter woke up.

It was only a dream.

A loud buzzing rang through the bunker, and he jumped, standing quickly to his feet. His eyes swung toward the sanitation airlock, the source of the buzzing. Gritty old florescent lights flickered on overhead, and a status light flashed. Somebody was entering the containment area.

The Shifter considered hiding in one of his tunnels, but thought better of it. Then he considered various large, capable forms he could take to combat whatever intruder this was, but for some reason he thought better of that too.

Before he could decide on a plan, the airlock's inner door creak open. And standing in the gap was Stanford Pines.

The shifter stared at him.

He stared back.

"Shifty." The old scientist said.

The shapeshifter hadn't heard that nickname in a long time. For so long he'd just been 'The Shapeshifter' or 'Experiment 210', 'The monster', 'the creature', or any combination of those… But ' _Shifty_ ' on the other hand… ' _Shifty_ ' was a relic of his childhood… A childhood of confinement and impotency and stunted curiosity and unfulfilled longing for freedom. A childhood he'd hated. A childhood whose scar hurt worse than an axe in the chest.

Stanford Pines was an evil, despicable creature, and Shifty had to kill him.

" _You_ …" He took a step toward his enemy. "You left me down here to rot…"

"Forgive me." Ford pleaded.

For some reason, the shifter stopped.

And that was a strange moment indeed.


	31. I Became a Man

"How's it coming?" Wendy asked.

Dipper gave his compass another shake, turned the map around again, and sighed. "No use." He admitted, before folding up the paper and returning it to his vest. "No clue where we are."

"Hmph." Wendy turned in a slow circle one more time, her hand on her magnet gun. "Our typical luck, huh?"

"Yeah."

It was bad enough that the metal forest was screwing with the compass, but these trees were so dense that they couldn't make out any landmarks, and thick clouds had taken this moment to completely obscure the sun, so he couldn't even do it the old-fashioned way.

"I guess we could just walk in a random direction." Wendy suggested. "I mean, we'd get out into the regular forest eventually."

"Well yeah…" He chewed on a small metal stick, for want of a pen. It tasted like an old penny. "But what if it turns out we're right near the Western border, and decide walking East? Right? We'd waste a whole bunch of time, and end up just that much further from the road."

"Well, yeah."

"Yeah… If I could just find, like, one landmark, or one familiar hill, I bet I could get a pretty good feel for it…" He gazed around at the thickly clustered trees and jagged underbrush, which combined to limit visibility to about 50 feet in every direction. "But I can't. Wasn't there a creek somewhere around here?"

"Yeah, but not near…" Wendy shrugged. "Let's climb a tree. We could see further from up there."

"Oh yeah. Good idea."

They found one that looked pretty tall, and left a lot of their heavier gear at the base to make the climb easier. The branches were too high to reach, so she gave him a boost, and waited for him to haul her up after. He was just barely strong enough to pick her up, and almost hurt his shoulder in the process, but felt proud of himself when he succeeded anyway.

The bark of this particular tree was old, and cracked, and rusty, and it flaked and cracked into jagged little pieces as they rubbed past it. They assumed it would give them gigantic hellish demon slivers if they let it touch their bare skin, so they groped their way carefully from branch to branch, touching only with their gloves, boots, and the larger surfaces of their armor.

It wasn't all that difficult, really. A metal tree is shaped about the same as an Earthly tree, just stiffer and colder. They made it to the top in good time, right as the sun decided to finally emerge from the clouds, and clean the landscape in a wash of golden light.

Turns out, they'd picked just about the perfect tree. Its trunk jutted a good 10 feet above all the surrounding growth, and its upper bows overshadowed pretty much everything els. Dipper made it to the top first, and scooted himself out onto one of these branches. Wendy came up immediately after, and sat down between him and the trunk. Together they gazed out toward the West, and let their eyes drink in the great distances.

In the valley immediately around and before them sprawled the odd-colored, hard-edged Forest of Daggers. Its trees were shorter and less-uniform than the surrounding Earthly Pines, meaning they could gauge its extents with some certainty. There was a small gap in the alien trees near the border, where the small creek was inhibiting the rust-able metal roots. And toward the center, they could just barely make out the circular clearing where Betty and Barney's haunted saucer was buried.

Beyond the alien maze to the West, a short, jagged ridge rose like a wall, its upper reaches dominated by the softer colors of native growth, while metal trees battled for purchase on its lower slopes.

Off to the South, the ridge tapered off and curved away, letting them see out over the expansive, rolling hills of the Earthly forest even further beyond Gravity Falls. That was a far, distant land which they had never explored, never even thought of exploring, and which would take a lifetime to walk the length and breadth of. Near the furthest horizon in that direction, where the hills began to blur and fade together into the blue haze, Dipper thought he could make out the highway which would one day take him back to California.

To the North, ridges and valleys of old, Earthly growth rose and fell for a few miles, before the hills took on the softer shades of newer, younger trees; the logging areas which Wendy's ancestors had been harvesting for generations. A few ridges and a river beyond that, the hills dropped off suddenly into the wide Gravity Falls valley, which was overshadowed by the hanging cliffs on the west, and the great buried dome of the ship on the East. All around and in between, there sprawled the familiar and peculiar woods which they'd both come to call home. The sun was just now reaching its peak overhead, and the shadows of clouds passed silently over the landscape, slow tides of darkness and light fighting for conquest of those ancient paths.

Beyond the valley and the falls, the landscape returned to its regular hills, and those continued off into the furthest distance, where they gave way to mountains. And beyond that was Washington, and then the increasing cold of Canada, and then the barren wastes of the Arctic, across the top of the world, and back down into the tundras of Siberia, I guess, if you want to think that far.

It was a wide, wide world, and Dipper and Wendy found it odd to consider that the Forest of Daggers, this hard, brutal, killer thing which had caused their family so much headache, was just such a small part; a minor concern that nobody else in history had ever concerned themselves with… How could it be that something so small could demand their very lives? How could it be that a few square miles of hellish thorns could so haunt their lives and drive them to such lengths? How could it be that shadowy enemies were hunting them for this?

"What are we gonna do?" Dipper asked.

Wendy thought for a moment, then nodded down toward their right. "I say we head East from here, then follow that stream up toward the Northern border. That's about as straight as we can go to the road, with the least amount of bushwacking."

"I was thinking the same thing." Dipper agreed. "…But that's not what I was talking about."

"I know…" Wendy sighed. "Dang, man…" She laughed. "Ha ha, I was hoping _you_ could tell _me_."

Dipper looked down and swung his feet, and was amused to see how far above the ground they were. "How am I supposed to know? Far as I can see, about all we can do is just continue with the plan." He shrugged. "We fire up the superweapon, nuke this place to kingdom come, and as soon as we're done, we destroy the power control coupling so that nobody can ever again use it for evil. Then we lock up the time machine, keep it secret, keep it safe, so nobody can ever use _it_ for evil… And before that, who _cares_ if the Mom Shifter tries to do something? I mean, we can deal with her… Can't we? If we team up on her, we could… I dunno, is she really all _that_ bad?"

"Yeah." Wendy nodded. "She's really all that bad."

"Okay… I don't know then. I really just don't know… But if we're gonna be getting into this kind of trouble for the rest of our lives, we're _gonna_ make enemies, so…"

"I know."

"But if you really think we _can't_ beat her… You really think she _is_ gonna kill us if we cross her?"

Wendy's answer caught on her tongue, and she paused for a moment to roll it around.

While she thought, Dipper continued. "Oh yeah, also, I forgot to mention it, but Mabel has a little plan too." He said. "To load a bunch of robot specimens into the flying saucer and send it to the dark side of the moon, and let them live there like some kinda nature preserve. So… That would be sort of nice."

"Oh… Huh…" Wendy perked up, happy to change the subject for a moment. "Would that… Work?"

"Well, the moon is geographically similar to their homeworld, as far as we can tell. The lunar surface receives plenty of sunlight, and the regolith contains relatively high ratios of iron, aluminum, titanium…"

"You know that off the top of your head?"

"Huh? No, I looked it up."

"I was gonna say…"

"Yeah. Well anyway, that's everything they need to grow and reproduce… And McGucket thinks we would be able to remote pilot the ship and everything, so… Yeah, it's feasible."

"Wow…"

"I only saw two problems with it, really. The first is that we _may_ have accidentally killed all the robot lions yesterday, when we took off in the saucer… So that's sort of a bummer."

"Hmm. Too bad we…" Wendy glanced down at the time machine. "Hey, waitaminute, we can! There was a whole bunch of cubs back in their den, right? Soon as we're down from this tree, we could just, like, sneak back there and stick all of them in the duffle bag… Y'know. Carry 'em back to the present, and boosh; we've got a whole species."

"Oh, hey yeah." Dipper smiled. "Yeah, we could! Mabel will definitely like that… And the juveniles would be easier to transport, so that's convenient."

"The lions won't like it though…" Wendy scoffed through her nose. "Man, and I used to wonder why they hated us so much."

"Woah… Yeah…" Dipper thought about that for a moment. "…So this entire time… This entire time, they were only trying to kill us because from their perspective, we attacked first… We stole their children."

"Yeah…" Wendy nodded slowly. "Crazy."

"Hey woah…" Dipper suddenly blinked. "Remember when we were down there in the den? That one lion grabbed a cub and escaped… That… Was that Juan and his mom? I mean, she must have run, left the forest entirely, wandered her way up into the hills by your house, and… Juan accidentally got caught in a beartrap, and… That brings it full-circle."

Wendy considered that for a moment. Then put a hand to her head and made an explosion noise. Dipper mirrored the action.

"Wow."

"Yeah."

"Huh…" Wendy shrugged. "Anyway, what were you saying? About the two problems with the plan? What's the second?"

"Huh? Oh, yeah, right, uh… Well secondly, it's not Mabel's flying saucer. It's yours."

"It is?"

"You dibsed it."

"Oh yeah… Forgot about that… Well, I dibsed it for both of us, so it's yours too…"

"Yeah, well…" He shrugged. "You were the one who said it. And flew it. So it's really kind of up to you what we do with it… I dunno."

"Yeah… Wow…" Wendy looked down at her hands, and noticed that they weren't very big hands, all considering. "…So… So help me through this, dude. We're teenagers, right? I'm 16, you're 13."

He nodded.

"But… But…" She blinked. "But we currently _own_ or _have control of_ … One, a functional flying saucer… Two, a time machine… Three, a gravitational WMD capable of crushing anything in the world…"

He nodded.

"And _we've_ gotta decide how to use them." She said. "There's a little slice of history that _we're writing. Us. This week._ And it's up to us to be responsible with it. To keep people from dying or getting hurt… All while something that wants to kill us is breathing down our necks."

He nodded.

"Is this what it means to be a hero?"

He shrugged.

"I almost…" She sighed. "I almost still wish we _could_ undo it… I wish we never found the forest. Wish that somebody else could handle this some other time."

"… _So do all who live to see such times._ " Dipper suddenly quoted. " _But that is not for them to decide. All we have to decide is what to do with the time we are given…_ "

Wendy nodded slowly. "Wise words."

"I didn't come up with it. Gandalf said that."

"Yeah, I know. Gandalf is OG. Plus, you said it in a Gandalf voice, so…"

"Oh yeah. Right."

"Ya nerd." She elbowed him with a smile, and he elbowed her back.

They sat in silence for a moment on the high branch, casually gazing out into the distance. Dipper let his mind wander a little too far, and almost lost his balance. Wendy noticed at the last second, and caught his shoulder to keep him from falling. Both their eyes darted nervously toward the distant base of the tree, where the jagged iron thicket stood with blade-like leaves pointed upward.

A few seconds later, Wendy finally set her jaw, and scoffed through her nose. "You know _what_? You're right." She said. " _Look_ at us. Here we are, risking falling to our instant deaths in what's essentially a _videogame spike-pit_ … All just because we needed a quiet place to talk and the view is nice. You… Heck, and an hour ago we just handed about a dozen killer robots their own butts… You know something, somewhere along the line, we stopped being scared. We started to believe that we could do it… I dunno when it happened, this Summer, or last, or sometime before or in between… At some point we turned into _them_ …"

"Who?"

"Oh, just… _Them_ , y'know? The _guys_. The _ones_. The _heroes_ … Like in all the old stories; Hercules, King David, Saint George, Bilbo, Mario, Samus, Samurai Jack… "

"Huh." He scratched his head. "I guess so."

"…Y'know what? I'll do whatever you decide." Wendy said. "And whatever it is, we'll _do_ it. We'll make it work, we'll come out on top. We'll win."

"You'll do whatever _I_ decide?"

She nodded. "You want to fire the weapon, and risk whatever comes next? I'm down for it. We'll do it. And we'll win."

"No…" Dipper said.

"No?"

"No, I was thinking of something even _crazier_." He said. "Because I've been stewing this around for a couple minutes, and I don't want to wait."

"Wait for what?"

"I don't want to wait around for this creep to find us." His voice cracked as he said so, and she could tell he was struggling to stay calm. "I don't want to stay awake at night worrying about her. I don't wanna tell Mabel that she needs to be careful. I don't want you to always be looking over your shoulder." _Is he afraid?_ Wendy wondered. "I don't want this freak in our _time_." Dipper continued, tapping his finger angrily against the branch, as if reading off a list. "I don't want her near my _family_. I don't want her in my _life_. I want her GONE. I want this _finished_. And I want it finished _today_. Right now." He looked her in the eye, and his gaze was steely and hard, and his unsteady voice did not imply an unsteady spirit. _He's terrified._ Wendy realized. _But he's not scared._ "We fight her today."

Wendy held his gaze for a second, then nodded. "How do we do that."

"We go where she knows where to find us…" Dipper's eyes flitted across the trees below them. "So. Assuming that we win. Assuming that we make it out of this mess alive and on top, we _will_ set off the superweapon and destroy the forest, which _will_ leave an enormous crater. That's an event. A date. A time. If she's seen even a little of the future, then she's _aware_ of that event. So she'll poke around a little. She'll walk around the crater investigating…"

Wendy just listened as he talked.

"And when she does…" Dipper spun back toward her, snapping his fingers to himself. "She'll find a _message_ , right on the edge of where the Forest used to be. A message that we're going to leave for her. A big, permanent message, something shiny and bold and impossible-to-miss; we'll paint it on a rock. A message meant specifically for her, that she can't help but recognize _as_ meant specifically for her. So no matter what time she comes out here, she'll see it, and know that she can find us on the day that we wrote it. And so she comes for us on the day, (which is today!) and we fight her then and there. Finish it for good, for all and eternity, so that we never have to be afraid of her again. Never have to deal with this one. More. Time."

Wendy bit her lip.

"I just… I'm through with the suspense." Dipper said. "And I think it's the right thing to do."

"…You sure?" Wendy asked hesitantly.

"No… But I'm sure enough."

"Then I trust you." She said it to herself as much as anyone else. "We'll do it. And we'll win."

" _You're_ sure?"

"I'm darn sure enough…" She nodded. "Do you trust me?"

"I trust you to death and beyond."

That was a pretty dramatic thing to say, but he meant it in the most literal way.

"Okay." She said.

"Okay." He agreed.

* * *

An hour later, they found themselves a quarter mile beyond the Forest of Dagger's outer border, searching for a place to leave their message. If Dipper's guesstimations were correct, the implosion event would just barely reach this point, so if they painted it on a big, tall stone here, it should be standing right on the rim of the crater after all was said and done. Visible and prominent.

Eventually they found just such a landmark; a short, cliff-like slab of stone jutting out of the ground, trees above and below it, like some kind of natural picture frame.

"Okay." Wendy pulled out a can of spray paint. "Message…" She mused. "What kinda vibe are we going for with this message? Just a good, old fashioned 'SCREW YOU SHAPESHIFTING JERKWAD' sorta flavor? Or perhaps some sorta aloof, snarky 'DIPPER AND WENDY WERE HERE'? …Or something more elaborate...?"

"How about we go with something _mysterious_ …" Dipper considered it for a moment. "…How about a picture of Betty and Barney?" He suggested. "Or… One of them. I mean, just draw a humanoid robot. After all, nobody except _us and her_ ever knew what they looked like." He opened his journal to the page where he'd sketched the two ghosts, and propped it on a nearby rock.

"Alright…" Wendy kept her eye on the picture, then began to paint.

A few minutes later, she squinted at her work with a dissatisfied grunt. "I'm not that great of an artist." She admitted. "You can't even tell it's them."

"I can tell." Dipper shrugged.

"We need something more…" Wendy tapped the paint can against her chin. "We need to go _seriously_ mysterious, ominious vibe with this. I mean, this is like us… Leaving our mark, right? This is… _Dipper and Wendy, signing off_. We need something audacious. Out-there. Something really, really awesome. We need _style_ , bro."

"How about a zodiac then?"

"…What, like Bill's magic prophecy circle that never did anything?"

"Yeah!" Dipper took the spray paint, and drew a large, ten-spoked wheel around Wendy's picture. "There. Now we just fill in the spokes with everybody from the adventure."

"Alright, I like it…! Okay, so that's you, me, Mabel…" Wendy drew a pine tree, an ice bag, and a shooting star. "Who else?"

"McGucket!" Dipper pointed to the next spot. "I mean, he has a big part to play in everything." Wendy drew a pair of glasses.

"And uh… The lions, I guess?" Wendy suggested, and drew a buzzsaw.

"Oh, and Juan too!" Dipper added. "I know he's just another lion, but he's also a baby, and he had a different sort of part to play…" Wendy drew a crescent moon, since they were sending him to the moon. "And the Shapeshifter…" Dipper muttered. "…What symbol should he be?"

"He's kinda gooey and slimy, so…" Wendy drew a teardrop. "I dunno. Who else?"

"The Captain of the original ship?" Dipper pointed over his shoulder in the direction of Crash Site Omega. "It was kind of his fault that they crashed, and that everything happened…" Wendy drew a ufo shape.

"I'd better put Bill on here too." She smiled wryly. "He's been on our minds this whole time. Like some kind of cancer we can't forget. He's the reason we're in this business at all."

"Ha ha. Yeah, give him an honorable mention then." Dipper scoffed.

Wendy drew a triangle with a closed eye. "That's nine out of ten." She nodded. "Who's last?"

" _The mother shapeshifter_." Dipper said. "The one we're here to kill."

Wendy drew an hourglass.

They stood looking at the completed zodiac for a few seconds.

"Better draw a date and time on there too." Dipper suggested. "Just so, like, it's _really_ impossible for her to miss us."

"Yeah. What day is today again? We're still last week right now, right?"

"Yeah, today's the 1st. And it's about… Nine? Yeah, nine in the morning."

Wendy painted '6/1/13, 9AM' below the zodiac, then put away the can.

"Alright." Wendy said. "This is it."

"Yep." Dipper nodded. "This…" His hands were shaking, just a little. One's own past death, one's own present mortality, and one's future time-fight of epic proportions, has a way of dominating and focusing the mind. "This is it."

Wendy glanced down at the ground. "Hey." She frowned. "Footprints."

Dipper looked where she'd indicated. Sure enough, there were marks in the dirt where they were standing. Many footprints, actually, and of all types. Bootprints, pawprints, and some that were more like gouges; claw marks. Like from the pointy, clawed legs of a shapeshifter.

Wendy bent down toward the marks, and poked at them. Then she took a pinch of dirt and sniffed it. "They're fresh." She said. "Real fresh. Like within-the-hour-fresh."

"So she's gonna show." Dipper whispered to himself. " _She's here_."

"It's gonna be okay." Wendy told him. "We'll do it."

"I know." Dipper drew a magnet gun.

"Wait, what's that gonna do?" Wendy frowned at the electromagnetic weapon.

"Oops. Right, uh…" Dipper put it away and took out a sword. "Okay."

"You have a sword?"

"What, you don't?"

"Fair enough." Wendy hefted the plasma beam, and pressed the button to ignite it. The motors inside it roared to life, the lights began to flash, and a glowing pink ball of pure sci-fi-ness formed at the weapon's tip.

They turned apart and found themselves once again back-to-back, their eyes roaming the surrounding landscape.

And so they waited.

"Come _on._ " Dipper growled, to himself as much as to anybody else. " _Please_ show up, you lousy, psychotic, evil freak. Show your face, come out, come here… Just get it over with, come and get us. _Come on_. We aren't afraid… We aren't afraid…"

"Dear God…" Wendy said. "God, uh… You know what I'm about to ask, so… This is just me adding another 'please'. Yeah."

And just for a moment, everything was silent in the woods.

Then, with no ceremony and no warning, a blinding flash of blue light lit up the scene for a fraction of a second. By the time it faded, the teens had already spun around to face the source, the plasma beam glowing like a solar flare, and the sword raised to strike.

But instead of an enemy, they were left staring at two strange, dark figures. A tall one and one that was almost-as-tall, but which seemed short in comparison.

They were covered in solid black metal armor from head to toe, their faces concealed by menacing helmets with little cyborg-eye-doohickies. They seemed to be carrying a great variety of weapons, and on the left side of their breastplates glowed the hourglass insignias that Dipper recognized from brief forays into the world of the future last summer.

"Ah." Dipper said.

"Ulp." Wendy bit her lip.

Dipper's mind shuffled briefly through possibilities. _Could they be robots? Probably not; robots wouldn't have such big heads or be so perfectly human-shaped. Aliens? No, that doesn't make sense. Time cops? Not quite; these guys aren't wearing uniforms, per say. Just the suits of mechanized armor. And the rest of their weapons are all kind of mismatched… Whoever these two are, they're not cops, or soldiers… They just happen to be wielding and wearing the very strangest of future-y weapons._

"Hey, how's it going." Said the tall one.

"Time-greetings." Said the short one.

The tall one seemed to cringe, just slightly.

"Uh! Uh…" Dipper lowered his sword and hesitantly raised his magnet gun, wondering if it would even work on timetanium robot-suits. "Uh! Who are you exactly? And… Uh… Uh, what do you want?"

"Hey, calm down dude…" Wendy nudged at him. "Uh… If they wanted to hurt us they would have already. I guess."

"Well anyway. I see you kids mean business." The short warrior said, and gave them two thumbs-up. "Time-good for you." (Both the visitors seemed to be using some kind of voice modulators in the helmets, that made them sound like distorted robots. It was a little scary. But it was also pretty cliché and hammy, so that made it less scary and more stupid.) "So I'll cut right to the time-chase: You're trying to lure an _extraterrestrial, shapeshifting, time-traveling monster_ out of hiding, in order to fight and kill it… Okay, first of all, that's really time-dumb."

"Yeah." Wendy shrugged.

"Well…" Dipper frowned.

"Second of all." The short one continued. " _It worked_. Me, my partner here, and a third agent, confronted the time-monster in this exact spot one hour ago. But we couldn't have done it without the time-trap you set, so we came here to say thank you and that you did a time-good job, and ask if anybody was hurt or in need of time-assistance?"

"Woah." Wendy blinked. "Well, wow, uh…"

"Thanks, yeah, I think we're good…" Dipper glanced at Wendy. "We're fine? I'm fine at least."

"I'm fine too." Wendy agreed. "We're both fine."

"Hmm." The tall time-person nodded. "I take it you've had to deal with this monster before? Did anybody die here?"

"Uhh…" Dipper looked at Wendy.

"Uhhhh…" Wendy looked at Dipper.

"Uhhhhhh…" He frowned.

"Uhhhhhhhh…" She frowned.

"Weeeell… Yeah, I guess I died a little." Dipper raised a hand as if being called on in class. "Uhhhhh… Just a little though."

"Yeah." Wendy confirmed. "Just a little tiny bit I guess. We fixed it though."

"Okaaaay, well…" The short warrior nodded. "That's good at least. You time-kids really need to be more careful; time-monsters are… _Extremely_ dangerous, so you should really leave it to the time-professionals whenever you can. Do your parents know you're out here?"

"Yeah." Wendy nodded.

"Uh… Yeah. Sure. Of course they do." Dipper suddenly frowned. "…Heeeeey, you're not gonna arrest us or anything, are you?"

"Naaaaah." The tall one waved a hand dismissively. "We ain't cops. Just folks trying to keep the peace. And even if we were, you weren't doing anything blatantly illegal. Time-self-defense is generally okay… I think. Right?"

"Yeah." The short one nodded. "Pretty much. Kinda. Yeah."

"Well, wait, no, I mean." Dipper pulled out his time tape with a worried frown. "Like, I'm _pretty_ darn sure we just went and made about _nine_ time-paradoxes today alone, and I kinda heard that's a big deal, and, uh…"

"Bootstrap paradoxes or grandfather paradoxes?"

"Bootstrap. Bootstrap all the way." Wendy answered.

"Okay, uh…" The tall one shrugged. "Those aren't really seriously bad… I mean, if they catch you then it's bad, but if they don't then… It's kinda no big deal."

"So…" Wendy shrugged. "What? That's it?"

"That's it." The short one said. "It's okay. It's off your time-shoulders now, if it was ever on them in the first place. You're free to go."

"Just like that?"

"Yeah. Why not?" The tall one shrugged.

"It's just… I don't…"

"You kids have been through a lot." The tall one offered. "It's important that you know it's alright."

"Wait…" Dipper frowned, and pointed to the zodiac. "We wrote _now's_ time and date. And you said you neutralized the monster an hour ago? Why would she show up an _hour_ ago?"

"Oh. Right…" The tall one's helmet tilted toward the stone in an annoyed way. "Uh… Yo, kid, you still got that spray paint on you?"

Wendy handed it over.

With one squeeze of the nozzle and a flick of the wrist, '9AM' became '8AM'. The tall one tossed back the paint, and asked. "Any more silly questions?"

"Nope."

"Nah."

"That's it."

"We're good."

"Okay." The short one nodded. "Time-thanks for helping keep the time-peace, time-citizens! You kids take care of yourselves. And, uh… Yeah. Always brush your time-teeth, I guess."

"Later Aligator." The tall one waved.

"Uh… After a while, fellow reptile?" Wendy replied.

Both time-warriors touched the hourglass insignias, and disappeared in a flash of blue light.

Dipper and Wendy stood staring at the place where they'd been standing, perplexed and dumbfounded.

"…Well that was totally random and out-of-the-blue." Wendy finally managed to say.

"Yeah." Dipper agreed. "Totally lame way to end a story, with a Deus-ex-Machina like that. I was all prepared for a fight."

"It's kind of a relief though." Wendy offered. "I mean… To know that… That… Like, that it's all in good hands, y'know?"

"Yeah… Hey, you ever seen them before?" Dipper asked. "Who were… I mean… Ha ha, some freaks, huh?"

"Yeah, I don't time-know. Just some time-bizarre time-freaks I time-guess."

"I guess…"

* * *

One time last Winter, when the cold wind was blowing, and they were looking out the window at the dark clouds billowing over long lines of identical wooden houses, Dipper had asked his dad what it meant to be a man. What does it take to stop being a boy? When do you change into a grown-up, and how do you know when you get there?

His dad had thought for a real long time, then said it wasn't something you could measure or quantify or put a number to, or even define, really. It's a gradual thing that happens on the inside, usually throughout the teenage years. For all the previous years of your life you were a boy, when you were led and sent and protected and raised by those wiser and stronger than you… But then one day you'll wake up all of a sudden and find that somehow, somewhere along the way, you've risen to the way they've raised you. You have responsibilities now, people to care for, people who respect you, see you as more than just a kid, and depend on you to make decisions for the best. At some point it'll strike you that you're there.

"One day…" His dad once told him. "You'll wake up, and find that you've become a man."

As Dipper and Wendy hiked up the trail away from the Forest of Daggers, Dipper found himself deep in thought. Wendy dropped her time machine into an old, rotten tree stump somewhere along the trail, and covered it up with a few handfuls of leaves. "If this is the same stump you found it in, right? A week later this morning…?" She tilted her head.

"That it is." He confirmed.

"Then that's the last time loop closed."

"Yeah… Awesome." Dipper twirled its future twin in his hand. "I guess that's it…"

"Yeah." Wendy shouldered the duffle bag (full of the half-dozen squirming robot cubs they'd just stolen), and turned to continue up the trail.

But then Dipper paused, and looked over his shoulder, back at the mechanical forest in the valley below them. He stared for a few seconds, then turned back to the tape. "Hey, I wanna see something real quick." He said.

"What?"

"Just curious…" He pulled the tape out for 1 month in the future, and held out his hand. "Do you want to come?"

"Psh." She scoffed, taking his hand. "What kinda question is that?"

 _Voom._

One month later, they found the landscape changed. Unformed, reformed, and ravaged.

The Forest of Daggers, and the mile-and-a-half wide swath of land it inhabited, was gone.

In its place, there sat the still and creepy crater which would one day be known as the Dark Lake.

It was a strange, comparatively shallow body of water, with an almost perfectly circular shape, and a depth that increased steadily toward the center. As if a giant had bent down toward the Earth with an enormous spoon, and cut loose a scoop from the ground. Or as if a black hole had somehow blinked into existence there for just a fraction of a second, long enough to tear up a huge bite of the Earth, and mash it all together in a single violent moment of infinite strength. Perhaps only the Pines family themselves would ever know how close to truth that was.

In the center of the lake, there rose the result of the implosion: a steep and jagged island. But not an island in the traditional sense of a sunken hill; no, this appeared more akin to a _pile._ It lay in its sagging bulk directly beneath the center of the implosion, an enormous twisted heap of dirt and rock and wooden metal a hundred feet high… Like some manner of otherworldly log jam, but more like an indescribable horror, a monument to death and pain too huge and too strange to really comprehend, standing tall and monolithic in the center of the still, empty lake.

People of future generations would say not to drink the water of the lake, for it was perpetually clouded, and black, and they said it tasted bitter; even grass and reeds wouldn't grow on its bank. They would warn their children not to swim on the Dark Lake, for they told rumors of strange creaking monsters which nobody had ever seen, but which might still swim in the lifeless depths.

And they would tell their children not to boat out to the island. For it remains a harsh and cruel place that could still cut and impale the careless. Not a single thing, native or alien, tree or flower, ever bloomed on the island. It merely sat, just as it was, for all the ages to come, growing gradually browner and weaker and softer and duller as it rusted and decayed and flattened. For ages upon ages people stayed far from it, until perhaps, one day, God willing, centuries or millennia down the road, it would no longer be a place of pain.

 _Still,_ Wendy and Dipper both knew. _It was better than the alternative._ Better than an infestation of hostile, predatory, bulletproof beasts. Better than a new age of warfare where self-replicating micromachines could be used to digest weapons, infrastructure, and entire cities. Better for an occasional unlucky soul to get sick from polluted water than for an untold number to suffer from a hungry, un-tamable alien threat allowed to roam free across the human world.

Better.

It was better.

As Dipper took it all in, slowly and deeply, he hoped that they were right.

"Mabel." Wendy noted. "She won't like it."

"It'll break her heart." Dipper agreed. "But she'll get better."

"I know." Wendy nodded. "…But this _is_ our last chance to choose _not_ to, anyway…"

He took a breath. "No." He decided. "It's for the best… And I think… I think that Mabel knows that now too."

She put a hand on his shoulder, and they stared for a few moments more, contemplating the far-reaching weight of their mission, and how their decision to exterminate an entire race would last for eternity. For better or worse, for xenocide or heroism or just business, it was an enormous thing to carry inside. But fortunately, they had each other. They could carry it together.

"So how long until this is really all done?" Wendy asked. "I mean, like, the whole entire plan?"

"I dunno." He shrugged. "I know McGucket can put machinery together pretty fast when he sets his mind to it, and you know that Mabel will absolutely _devote_ herself to collecting samples, so that shouldn't take long either… So I'd guess a couple weeks? Maybe?"

"Couple weeks…" She mused. "That's only until the end of June, really. Still three quarters of Summer vacation left… We'll still have a whole wide world opened up for us, dude."

"Yeah."

"And by that time, I bet we'll probably have about… _Three_ dates under our belt, I guess? So we'll see how all that's going too."

"Huh-AH!" He jumped in shock, still scarcely believing that this all _wasn't_ a dream this time. "Uh… Ha ha… Oh yeah… Yeah, that… Right."

"Dude, calm down, it's just a date. You've been on a date before. Heck, Pacifica _kissed_ you, right? What're you so worked up about now?"

"W-w-well… It's just… I don't… Well, she just kissed me on the cheek, and only because she didn't want to embarrass, the, uh, thing, that, uh, see, uh, so… Uhhh, wait… Okay…" He took a deep breath to bring his stuttering voice back under control. "Wendy, I just really want to know… _Do you want it_?" He lost the control again, and began to stammer. "I-I-I mean, I just want to know for sure. I mean, I always just… Thought… That… Y'know, I'm 2 and a half years younger than you, and I'm just a kid and-"

" _Look_ man, I've been turning this over for a long time. And as far as I'm concerned, you're the smartest, grittiest, most bull-headed… Uh, well, I don't…" Her voice faltered too. "I don't really know how to say it, but… I love you."

"…Like… As a friend."

"Well… No. I mean yeah, definitely, but like…" She closed her eyes, knowing that she'd finally said it, and there was no turning back now. "Like as a man." She said. "…And all that that implies."

"…Romantically?"

"…I… I think so… I'm not quite sure, but I have a feeling I'll come around before too long."

He had a weird, happy, awkward look on his face that you can probably imagine for yourself. "Oh." Came out of his mouth, for lack of the brain function needed to enunciate something more eloquent.

 _As a man._

They stood in silence for a minute, while the weight of this set in.

 _As a man._

That's what she'd said!

 _A man!_

What a word. What an idea. What a proud and huge and surpassing thing to be.

Wendy set down the duffle bag, then reached under his arms, grasped the armor on his back, lifted him up to her eye level, pulled him close, and kissed him on the lips.

* * *

Elsewhere in the forest, a pair of armorsuited figures watched the proceedings with some degree of amusement. "You know…" Said the tall one. "…I knew it was us the whole time."

"You… Waitwhat, you did?" The short one frowned.

"Well yeah, it's not like we were super subtle about it or anything…"

"Well, yeah… But still… You. Didn't. Say. Anything."

"Of _course_ I didn't. You made this relationship awkward enough already without me bringing the whole 'destiny' angle into it… But, yeah, I did know. For the longest time, even before this, I knew for sure that we'd… Eventually get together. Eventually marry or whatever… And for the longest time I wanted nothing to do with it."

He pondered that for a moment, and looked ever-so-slightly hurt. "…Really? Nothing at all?"

"At _all_." She shook her head confidently. I mean, I liked _you_ fine, as you are… But I didn't think you were handsome or attractive, just a gimpy little shrimp with a big heart and mind… I didn't want nothin' to do with romance."

"Hmm."

"Plus, romance is stupid." She added. "The hugging, the kissing, the cuddling, everything that everybody thinks of when they think of romance, it's all just stupid… Everybody seems to think you need those things to love a person, but you don't. Call it hypocritical to come from a married woman, but quote me on it anyway: Romance is stupid."

He laughed and shrugged.

"…But love ain't stupid." She added. "…And… I think we've always had love. From the first time we hung out, there's always been love."

"Yeah…" He considered that for a moment. "Luminous beings are we. Not this crude matter."

"Wise words."

"Yeah, Yoda said that."

"Boi, I know who said it."

"Ha ha yeah… Hmm…" They looked back down at their past selves. "You know." He laughed. "I didn't _know_ it was us when I saw us then… But I was pretty darn sure it was too. And I never said anything either. Just kinda thought about it every once in a while and started getting sweaty…"

"Ha ha, wow…" She shook her head. "Well, we didn't exactly make it hard to guess. I mean, Darth Vader voice-changers? That's too stupid and cliché and dorky to come from anyone _besides_ you."

"Yeah, well, you used the words 'howdy', 'yo', and 'ain't', not to mention calling me 'dude'."

"Ooooh, would you prefer I use 'time-howdy', 'time-yo' and 'time-ain't', then time-dude? Isn't that the new hip trend?"

"Laugh all you want." He shook his head. "But the fact of the matter is that putting 'time' in front of things gets you respected in this line of work. Its professional."

"Trust me, it's not."

He gasped in mock-offense. "You shut your time-mouth."

They turned back toward their past-selves, and watched for a little while longer, before firing their time-machines, and warping away. For there were grander missions yet to be accomplished. Greater responsibilities and stranger friends in further places. There was a life out there waiting for them, a fantastic and brave life they'd taken as Destiny's welcome gift. And as they left to return to it, their hearts were not heavy with the youth they had lost.

* * *

As for their younger selves, Dipper pulled out the tape once again, and with one final ' _Voom_ ', they returned to the present day.

Wendy turned to leave.

But Dipper looked back at the forest one last time. At the trees that they would destroy, and the bushes and the plants and the little crawling bugs whose days were numbered. A five-tentacled robot monkey swung out onto a near branch, and looked down at him with a playful, curious sparkle in its red eye. It didn't know that it would be dead in less than a month. It didn't know that they would be the ones to kill it. It was just a dumb, soulless, metal animal, innocent and herbivorous, representative of a quiet nature whose only sin was being born into an unready world.

And Dipper knew that he would never see this place again.

"…Goodbye." Dipper told the forest. "And thank you. It's been a most fantastic adventure."

And he followed Wendy into the trees, to begin the long hike home.

* * *

Mabel entered her bedroom with a pig and a robot cat close on her heels, and found Dipper already there, writing in his journal. "Oh, well hey Dipper! _There_ you are!"

"Hey Mabel." He smiled. "Uh… So how'd things go?"

"Oh, uh… Y'know, good. I think things are looking good. Better, at least. Anyway, how about _you_? Did you catch up with Wendy? Did you talk to her?"

"Yeah, we, uh… We talked a little."

"About what?" She peeked over his shoulder to look at his open journal. On the left page, he'd drawn a picture of Wendy, sitting in a tree wearing full armor. It was a pretty good picture, actually; he'd put a tellingly large amount of detail into the hair and eyes. On the right page, he'd drawn what looked like a peaceful, still lake, with a steep, dark island in the center. "Where is that? Are you planning a honeymoon?" Mabel frowned.

He hastily closed the journal. As he did so, she glimpsed many more pages, many drawings of many things. "That's the, uh… That's just something else." He shrugged away her attention.

"Hey, waitaminue, what are you doing writing in your journal?" Mabel suddenly objected. "Your date with Wendy is in, like, half an hour now! You need to get ready!"

"I _am_ ready… See?"

"You just look normal! How are you supposed to stir up some burnin' love looking normal?"

"Well… Well, but look! I washed my clothes! And I took a shower! I don't smell bad at all!"

Mabel sniffed experimentally. "Okay, that's pretty impressive, I guess. Your stink is down by almost 70%..."

"Only 70?"

"But c'mon, bro! This is like your big day! You need to _look_ the part!"

"Y-well-uh… Well _she_ won't be dressed up nice. I mean, I don't _think_ she will. Do you think she'll dress up? I can't really imagine her in a dress, but would she wear a suit, or… What did she wear when she went out with Robbie? Do you remember? Should I wear jeans? Or a bowtie? Or some kinda…"

"A bowtie is good. And how about slacks?" Mabel suggested. "And obviously comb your hair!"

"I haven't combed my hair in a couple years now, so I'm not sure it's even physically _possible_ at this point. I mean, I just keep a pencil up there. See?" He pulled out a pencil.

"But think of prince charming! Prince charming _always_ has great hair! _You_ need great hair!"

"I'm not prince charming, I'm just a guy."

"No, you are prince charming. And you need to brush your teeth too, for when she kisses you. Can't have stinky breath when you're trying to kiss. Also, do you want me to get some fur from the goat? We could tape it to your chest! And then I could arrange for a werewolf to attack during the middle of the date, so your shirt gets ripped, and Wendy could see how manly and muscular you look barechested! Like ' _bwaaaaaaar_ _look at me I'm a manly man'_!"

"Okay, Mabel, would you _stop_ , actually? It's just a date."

"JUST a DATE?! Just a date with _Wendy_! Your one and only true love! Uh-duuuhr!"

"Yeah, but you're, like, teasing me non-stop! Making it seem like an incredibly huge deal!"

"Oh bro…" Mabel snickered, putting a hand on his shoulder. "If only you knew how much I was holding back right now."

"If _this_ is you holding back, then I absolutely _need_ to change the subject." Dipper stood up. "Okay, here it is Mabel. We got you a present." He reached behind the chair toward a large duffle bag. As he moved it, Juan's antennae flared up, and he began to look excited.

"What? Me? A present? You shouldn't hav-" The bag came open and Mabel gasped. "WOAH more Juans?! Where did these come from?! They better not be some kinda clones!"

"No…" Dipper shrugged. "After I told Wendy about Operation Pines Colony Dark-Side Alpha™, we liked it so much that-"

"Waitaminute, they're not clones! They're all unique!" Mabel removed the first robot from the bag. "This one has a really long face-"

"Don't get too attached to them." Dipper reminded her. "We-"

"-And this one is totally wall-eyed, this one has a birthmark shaped like a fist, this one is smaller and cuter than the others, this one is really smooth and shiny (she must use lotion), this one has a little round nose and huge saws…" She put them on the floor one by one.

"I mean, just don't-" Dipper was about to tell her not to name them.

"I'll call them Mansley, Mary-Ann, Wally, Pidge, Katherine, and Buzz-Saw Louis."

"Well don't-" Dipper was about to tell her not to ship them.

"I ship Mansely with Katherine, Wally with Mary-Ann, and Juan with Pidge. Buzz-Saw Louis is the unlucky seventh, but he doesn't mind; he's a rugged loner. You can see it in his eyes."

"Don't-" Dipper was about to tell her not to name the ships.

"Mantherine, Wally-Ann, and Puan… Or should that be Juidge?"

"Don't get attached to them! We're just gonna send them to the _moon_!" Dipper reminded her.

"I know." Mabel said. "They're gonna love it up there."

They turned and stared for a moment at the little robots scurrying around on the floor, playing with each other. Katherine and Mansley were wrestling over a half-eaten toy car, Buzz-Saw Louis cut off an exposed nail on the floorboards, Wally was exploring under the bed while Mary-Ann was following him, and Juan was chasing Pidge around; he just seemed overjoyed to see others of his kind again. "Yeah…" Dipper nodded. "They're gonna love it… I'm… I'm glad you… You're… I don't know. Willing to let go?"

"…I know they're going away soon." Mabel said. "But that doesn't mean I can't enjoy them while they're here… Right?"

"Hmm. Yeah." Dipper nodded. "Oh, uh… Hey Mabel, there's something I was meaning to talk to you about."

"What?"

"Wendy, uh… Wendy told me what happened."

"What what happened?"

"That… That I died. How I died. How you all saved the day. How _you_ saved the day… So thanks."

"Oh…" Mabel blinked. Her smile wavered. "Oh yeah… Yeah, no problem. It's fine."

"…I can't imagine what that must've been like for you." Dipper said. "I'm just… I'm really sorry. Nobody should have to go through that."

"It's okay…" Mabel shrugged. "Uh… I guess… I guess bad things happen. Sometimes there's nothing you can do to keep them from happening, or to pretend like they didn't… Sometimes there's nothing you can do to fix them, or maybe what you have to do _to_ fix them isn't _pretty_ … But that doesn't mean you have to be sad or depressed or do something actually _wrong_ … If anything's ever gonna turn out right ever, you need to keep your faith, and persevere, and be strong… The end of the world is only the end of the world if you let it be, you know?"

"Hmm." Dipper nodded. "That's some mature junk."

"And I don't know if this is a change of subject or not, but you and Wendy have kind of been running off together this Summer and sorta leaving me behind…" Mabel added, and her voice faltered. "And… Okay, I know you didn't _mean_ to, and I don't even really _mind_ , I mean, maybe I mind a _little…_ But the point is that I don't know if we can _help_ growing apart. No matter what, we're gonna go our own ways in life. You're gonna marry Wendy, orNOwaitImeanyou're gonna marry _somebody probably_ , and then… Become a daring adventurer who roams time and space slaying dragons, catching ghosts, and toppling empires… But I'm gonna open a detective agency that's secretly also a dating service, and marry a hot vampire dude with a rugged chin and buff arms and give birth to superpowered half-breed children destined to usher in a new era of peace and prosperity between our warring peoples… Or something like that. But we're going to become our own people, we're going to leave our childhood behind, and eventually it'll be _like_ we're dead, because we'll be different people who have forgotten our old memories… But it won't be sad because we'll be making _new_ memories, becoming _better_ people… I don't know. I've just kind of been thinking."

Dipper nodded slowly. "I've felt it too." He agreed. "We're growing up."

"…I don't want to grow up." Mabel said.

"I'm not even sure if I do or don't…" Dipper shuffled his feet. "Sometimes I miss what I left behind, sometimes I can't wait for what's ahead…"

"And sometimes you're scared to death of both?"

"Yeah… But I know that no matter what the future holds, we can't afford to run from it."

Mabel nodded.

"We'll fight to the bitter end." Dipper said. "You'll always be my sister, and I'll never be far. Until every last one of us is buried, I'll never be far. I promise."

"Thanks."

"Y'know, Wendy mentioned earlier that we've all become heroes… And I think she's right."

"She is." Mabel agreed.

Dipper looked at his watch. "Oh man, just, like, 20 minutes left… Uh… Okay, you really think I should comb my hair?"

"We'll give it a _shot_." She promised, flipping out a comb. "We'll give it one _heck_ of a shot."

* * *

 _Author's Note:_

And so, dear readers, we come to the end of the story.

Perhaps there is more to tell.

I could tell you the bizarre and semi-awkward-but-not-altogether-bad tale of Dipper and Wendy's first date.

Or perhaps you'd like to hear an account of the UFO's launch, and the technical feats on McGucket's part which allowed its success.

Likewise, I believe I ought to mention the long and difficult talks between Ford and the Shifter, and leave you small hints that they were growing to see the good in one other, through the sharing of similar intellects and the exchange of small, grudging kindnesses.

I'd definitely like to describe the handsome vampire which Mabel will certainly meet one day, since she patiently kept her hope and believed that her dreams could really come true. And I could summarize the adventures she shared with him on warm nights and days that were not sunny.

I don't think I _ever_ want to relate that time when Stan trimmed his nosehairs so aggressively that he got arrested for public indecensy.

I'd be much more eager to introduce you to Soos and Melody's first child.

Or perhaps Dipper and Wendy's daughter.

Or warn you about how after the death of their leader, the great monsters of the nightmare realm began to once again break into and terrorize the weaker dimensions, in memory of him. And about how as they did, something deep in a long-forgotten corner of Stan's mind began to laugh quietly.

Or tell you plainly that the gravitational waves of the Forest of Dagger's destruction did not go unnoticed by the government.

I could also drop a reeeeeally slick cliffhanger for a sequel, by mentioning a scene in a far distant galaxy, where a small fleet of search-and-rescue craft are sent off through time and space in a final effort to discover the fate of Colonial Vessel 46.18'\\. And the Captain of one ship decided to follow an anonymous tip toward the third planet of an unspeakably distant yellow star system…

There is much to tell.

But this story was smaller. This was the story of the Forest of Daggers, of its creation, characters, nature, and fate, and the journey of discovery that teenage heroes took to unravel its secrets and bring justice to the old wounds of the dead.

As such, the story is done. I believe I said all I wanted to say, included all I wanted to include, and arrived at a product I am proud to place before you.

It is done. The first full-length novel which I have ever seen through to conclusion. I clench my fist and utter "BOO-YAH" under my breath, and I am VERY VERY VERY glad that you read it, and I hope you enjoyed it. I hope also that you leave a review or something to let me know, because every one means a crap-ton to me.

However, dear readers, I'm afraid that my time writing fanfiction is coming to a close. In my time here with you, I have discovered that fanfiction is very unrewarding, appeals to only very narrow audiences, tends to alienate my work from close friends and family who have never seen the show, and is generally an unfulfilling demand on time that I'd much rather spend on artwork or original novels.

So, with great regret, I bid you all the fondest of farewells.

(However… All these characters I love with a passion; those I have created, and those I adopted. Even now, my mind fills with the futures and stories still unexplored and wide open before them. Perhaps one day I will return. But certainly not now, and definitely not soon.)

For now…

See you next mission.


End file.
